


in the arms of the ocean

by mothicalcreatures



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Background Relationships, Character Death, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Merpeople, Rossier, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Victorian Science Fiction, but like only a very little bit, minor amount of period typical ableism re: carnival sideshows, mostly tangling with societal expectations, vaguely set in the late 1800s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26817517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothicalcreatures/pseuds/mothicalcreatures
Summary: Edward Little did not consider himself to be a superstitious man, but there were certain things that got under one’s skin after spending more than half one’s life at sea. Then he’d read that damn paper that George had thrust upon him with a chipper, “I know you’re a stickler for scientific evidence.”--Never one to believe in sailor stories about mermaids, Lt. Edward Little finds himself intrigued after reading a paper by retired captain and scientist Francis Crozier that claims scientific evidence of mermaids.
Relationships: Thomas Jopson/Lt Edward Little
Comments: 15
Kudos: 26
Collections: The Joplittle Fall Fic Exchange 2020





	in the arms of the ocean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sasheenka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sasheenka/gifts).



> Written for the fantasy au prompt, I hope this is fantasy enough. 
> 
> A huge thank you to @bluebacchus, who helped me figure out what prompt to fill and with various details throughout; @tulliolaciceronis, for their invaluable Latin help when it came to creating mermaid species names; @ClockworkCourier, for helping me sort out some of the finer details of Edward’s naval career and both the Little and Jopson sibling situations; @frederickdesvoeux, for providing the info regarding how old Edward was when he joined up; @blasted_heath, for betaing this absolute monstrosity of a fic; and everyone from the writing sprint discord server for cheering me on. 
> 
> The title is from Never Let Me Go by Florence + The Machine, which is on the [official fic playlist!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/58L3Wk7yKv31uwbVrhVYab) The playlist is designed to be listened to in order as the songs correspond to the progression of the fic, but it’s also a good playlist listened to on shuffle.
> 
> Lastly, there is some truly incredible art by oochilka that I commissioned for the fic. It is embedded in the fic itself and [can be found on Tumblr here.](https://oochilka.tumblr.com/image/631214582628827136)

Edward Little did not consider himself to be a superstitious man, but there were certain things that got under one’s skin after spending more than half of one’s life at sea. Hear enough stories about mermaids and you might start believing them, consciously or not. Then he’d read that damn paper that George had thrust upon him with a chipper, “I know you’re a stickler for scientific evidence.”

The paper detailed the discovery of a mostly whole mermaid specimen by retired Naval captain and noted naturalist Francis Crozier, best known for co-writing the first treatise on Antarctic marine life with Sir James Clark Ross. The creature had, supposedly, been found on a beach near where he was living at the time, and he had been called in to examine the body. The paper detailed the subsequent autopsy and examination, along with what was clearly many years of theorizing on the part of Captain Crozier. It was truly incredible to read and was accompanied by a handful of detailed anatomical drawings as well.

_The species name_ Siren canora _, mockingly given by_ Punch _in their criticisms of this line of evolutionary study, does not seem entirely suitable to the specimen, as the structures necessary for human speech are absent. It is possible that their vocalizations are more akin to those noted in whales, but until a live specimen of this species is found all we can do is speculate. I would recommend a different method of naming, one that allows for the potential of more that one species. After all, there are many different species of fish in the sea, so why should the same diversity not be true of mermaids? I would think that the name_ Siren lamia _would be most appropriate to this species due to the shark like appearance of the specimen’s tail and the long, sharp teeth._

Edward was so lost in reading that he didn’t realize how much time had passed until the bell rang to indicate the current watch ending. He took stock of himself, it was getting late and he had first watch, best to be rested. And yet… there was only another page or so…

“How did you get this?” Edward asked George the following day as they sat down for breakfast in the gunroom.

George looked up as Edward slid the paper toward him. “Hmm? Oh! My brother Robert sent it. We share a fascination with the supernatural and the macabre. He thought I’d like the idea of _Siren lamia_. Quite fascinating, isn’t it?”

He paused a moment to shovel some food into his mouth before continuing. “Apparently, Crozier teaches at his—Robert’s that is—university, or did, I’m not sure he’s still there. The paper’s a good few years old now and apparently ruffled more than a few feathers when itwas published. Many people have dismissed it as utter fakery akin to the Feejee mermaid hoax.”

Edward frowned. Everything had seemed quite above board to him as he’d read the article, but he supposed there could be things that he was missing.

“If Crozier has this specimen then surely it would only be a matter of showing people…” Edward began. “This is clearly _not_ the same thing as the Feejee mermaid. The drawings show a much larger creature for one.”

George beamed. “I _knew_ you’d agree with me once you saw the science.”

“I haven’t said that yet,” Edward muttered, but, in truth, he _was_ inclined to believe this and he would be more so if he could see the creature himself.

George waved Edward’s words of denial away. “No matter, but the tragic thing about it is, even if he showed off the creature… What did he have left to show after dissection? Nothing more than parts in jars.”

“And it could easily be argued that those parts could have come from anything,” Edward finished with a sigh.

“Exactly!” George said, grinning broadly. “My brother’s trying to figure out if Crozier’s published anything else on the matter, but hasn’t come up with anything, but I’ll let him know you’re interested as well. Between the three of us I’m sure we can find something.”

According to George, Captain Francis Crozier was a professor at the Exeter School of Science, or rather, he had been. When Edward had met with Sir John Franklin, the head of natural sciences, to enquire about him, he had been told that Crozier had resigned in disgrace after the debacle that was the publication of his mermaid paper. Franklin had had no kind words to say about Crozier and Edward had fled the man’s office just as quickly as he could.

In his attempt at a quick escape Edward nearly missed the plaque for the office two doors down; the one noting the office of Sir James Clark Ross. Edward paused, his and George’s further digging had revealed that Crozier still published occasionally on marine life (the normal kind; he’d published nothing further about mermaids) as a co-author alongside Ross. Clearly, the men were still in contact, despite Crozier having left the university.

More importantly, the door to Ross’s office, while mostly closed, was ever so slightly ajar. Edward steeled himself and before his nerves could get the better of him, he stepped forward and knocked.

There was the sound of a chair creaking and then, “Come in.”

Edward pushed open the door slowly, hoping his nerves didn’t appear on his face over much.

“Captain Ross, sir.” Edward greeted the man sitting behind the desk, out of habit more than anything.

Ross simply waved it off, however. “None of that. Come in and have a seat. How can I help you?”

Edward took the offered seat with a quiet, “Thank you, sir.” Then he fell silent, worrying his cheek suddenly unsure of how to put forward his request. When the silence dragged on Edward shook his head, “My apologies. I… I came here to see if Captain Crozier still worked here, but…”

Ross’s brow furrowed. “You’re not a student here then. What’s your name?”

“Lt. Edward Little, sir, late of HMS _Albion_.”

“Lt. Little,” Ross began. “Captain Crozier has been a dear friend of mine for many years, and he left Exeter for good, albeit unfortunate, reason that I’m sure you know if you’ve already spoken to Sir John Franklin. I would be happy to pass on his mailing address so you might write to him, but I need to know what your interest is.”

Edward sighed. “It’s about the mermaid paper,” he admitted. “Though I don’t… my intent is not… I would like to learn more. I’m no scientist, I’ve spent my whole life in the Navy, but Captain Crozier’s paper holds far more water than most things I’ve seen written up about mermaids.”

There were several long moments of silence following Edward’s statement and for a moment he worried he’d misstepped, as Ross leveled him with an intense stare that made Edward feel like a chastised midshipman all over again.

At length Ross spoke. “Do you have a next commission lined up?”

Edward shook his head. “I… well, I’d rather hoped to pursue this line of inquiry a bit further before I went back to sea.”

“I see.” Ross let out a long sigh. “Captain Crozier wrote to me not terribly long ago saying that he was looking for an assistant. He hoped that I might be able to recommend one of my students.”

Edward’s eyes widened a fraction and his breath hitched in a near gasp.

“Mind you, he’s no longer working on his mermaid theory,” Ross said. “We have an upcoming paper on deep sea marine life, he’s been sending me specimens. If you truly wish to learn more, I can write you a letter of introduction and he _may_ be willing to answer your questions, but you will have to put in the work.”

“Of course, I… that would be… most welcome, actually.” In truth, a change of pace and scenery might do him some good, Edward thought, being somewhere quiet on the coast and learning about little underwater creatures. Close enough to the sea to stave off that feeling of being stuck on land, but without the stress of having to corral dozens of sailors.

Ross nodded and began scratching out a letter. “While you do seem genuine in your query, I would advise you be mindful of your expectations and remember that it is not me who you have to convince of your earnestness.”

“Of course. I suppose there are plenty of frauds looking to use his research to their own ends,” Edward said. He still wasn’t wholly convinced of mermaids, but Ross seemed to still hold Crozier in high esteem for all the man’s research had been torn apart and called a hoax.

“Yes, among other sorts,” Ross said. He paused in his writing. “What do you believe? You’ve read Crozier’s paper—what are your thoughts? Be honest.”

“It’s compelling,” Edward said. “Well thought out and well argued. I’ve always been highly skeptical of the supernatural, my friend George—he’s always been fast to believe in anything—he thought I might benefit from seeing scientific evidence. I’ll admit I don’t find myself wholly convinced…” He trailed off worrying the inside of his cheek again.

“But you’re still seeking out further information instead of simply discounting it,” Ross finished for him.

Edward nodded. “I don’t think you can be a sailor and feel there’s not something strange about the sea.”

Ross smiled and resumed writing. “I would most certainly agree with you there.”

When Edward knocked on the door to Crozier’s house, he was not expecting the man himself to answer it. It was a modest house, but still one that one would expect to be somewhat staffed. Though from what Ross had told him, Crozier had never been one for things he deemed “frivolous extras.” Perhaps he counted a fully staffed house among those.

Crozier raised an eyebrow, wary, when he saw Edward, a total stranger, on his front step. “And who are you?”

“Lt. Edward Little, sir.” He held out Ross’s letter of introduction, slightly crumpled from how tightly Edward had been holding it. “Captain Ross sent me? I’m… He said you were in need of an assistant?” 

Crozier’s posture eased instantly and he took the letter from Edward and stepped back into the house. “Forgive the mess, I wasn’t expecting visitors. The maid only comes around twice a month.”

Calling the house a mess was, perhaps, an understatement. The front hall was cluttered with empty buckets and nets and there were several pairs of boots caked in mud and some sort of still wet green slime. As Crozier led Edward further inside the clutter continued. In the parlor books and papers scattered on every available surface and where there weren’t papers there were specimen jars with all sorts of baffling marine life, the likes of which Edward had never seen before.

Crozier made a rather displeased sounding noise and Edward looked up to see that Crozier had opened the letter from Ross and was frowning fiercely at it. After a time, he folded it up again and set in on the table next to him. “I suppose I should have expected none of James’ students would want to come out and work with me. James says you’re a Navy man.”

“Since I was 15, sir,” Edward said and Crozier nodded.

“He also says you’re interested in that damn mermaid paper.” He sounded terribly bitter, and Edward found it hard to blame him.

“Yes, sir, but, ah, Captain Ross did mention you were no longer pursuing those studies.” He hoped that was placating enough; that it would convey that he wouldn’t press if Crozier wanted to leave that whole debacle in the past.

“I am not, yes, that is true,” Crozier said. “But likely not for the reasons you’re thinking. I had a second paper that I nearly published, but no self-respecting journal would take it.”

Edward fought back the urge to ask if he might read it, but he reminded himself firmly that he ought not lead with that.

That urge must have shown on his face regardless, because Crozier sighed. “It doesn’t exist anymore. I burnt every copy I made. It was rash, but I don’t regret it. My notes for it are still around somewhere, however. Maybe you can make it your mission to find them.”

Crozier had set him to work immediately after that. His first task was to sort and organize the many haphazard piles of papers lying about. It would take days, _weeks_ , to get through everything, but Crozier had seemed unconcerned.

“As long as it gets done,” he’d said, waving his hand. “I’ll have other things for you to do, so I don’t want you fretting over the papers.”

Edward had not said what he was thinking, that he _would_ be fretting about it until he was done, simply because it was such an overwhelmingly huge task.

Thankfully, when Edward began the work, he realized that, for as scattered as everything was, each individual page was well noted, making it not terribly difficult to tell which ones went together. Each page was dated—including the ones written on scraps—and there were also notes signifying what project each page was for. Much of Edward’s work came down to compiling all the papers for each specific project and then organizing them chronologically. Any paper that wasn’t marked for a project, he set aside to give to Crozier. It really was just a matter of tedium, but once he fell into a pattern Edward found the repetition surprisingly soothing.

The monotony was occasionally broken up by other things: Crozier giving him specimens to sketch for practice, repairing nets, and, most unusually, bringing the nets and buckets that Edward had seen in the front hall down to the beach every so often in the evening. It seemed an odd thing to do, as Crozier never seemed to go out late at a night to collect specimens, but he’d always come back from his morning walks on the beach with a full haul so there was some purpose to it.

A little over a month into Edward’s stay, and with fall having been cut short with the chill of winter weeks ago, Crozier called him into his study. It was not a room Edward had been in before and it was littered with papers the same way the rest of the house had been before Edward had begun his careful organization of everything. (Now everything that had been catalogued sat in neat labeled boxes in one of the storage rooms, save for the papers pertaining to Crozier’s current work and the old boxes Crozier had dug up that still needed sorting.)

“I’ll admit I’m surprised by you Edward,” Crozier said. He looked considerably less imposing behind his desk than Ross had. “I thought you’d be much more forward in inquiring about mermaids. Most people who seek me out are, but you’ve hardly made a peep about them since the day you arrived.”

“Well, I…” Edward was at a bit of a loss as to what to say. He could make a fool of himself answering truthfully; that he didn’t know quite _how_ to voice his questions, that he was embarrassed by his lack of knowledge on the scientific details, that he kept talking himself out of asking out of a concern of being _too_ forward… Or he could attempt to fumble through some excuse and look a different kind of fool.

In the end he merely said, “I agreed to come here to work for you, regardless of what you would be willing to tell me about your mermaid research. You had your reasons for ceasing your research and withdrawing from the public eye, I had no desire to overstep, sir.”

Crozier nodded, a hand worrying at the edge of a book on his desk. “I appreciate your honesty Edward,” he said. “It’s been sometime since anyone approached me about my research in any earnestness, and you’ll forgive me for giving a particularly large amount of dull tasks.”

“You wanted to see if I’d give up,” Edward said. Though, truth be told, he’d found none of the tasks particularly dull.

Crozier grimaced slightly. “Not… precisely. I wanted to be sure you were willing to do all the work required as an aide to my research. You are not a student and, therefore, have no scientific career to further. You would lose nothing by leaving my employ and returning to sea. In fact, you’d be better paid if you did. And…”

Crozier picked up a book on his desk. It was a tall, rather slim volume and Edward was not at an appropriate angle to attempt to read the spine. After another moment Crozier let out a deep sigh and continued. “I wanted to judge your intent before giving you too much further information on the topic of mermaids.”

“And what conclusion did you come to?” Edward asked. Despite the whole conversation being generally favorable, part of Edward’s mind traitorously reminded him that this whole endeavor was ultimately a selfish one, to satisfy a curiosity. He had no true scientific inclinations or goals that would justify his wanting to know.

“I think you are precisely the sort of man I would trust with this information,” Crozier said.

Edward felt stunned. He opened his mouth to reply, but he couldn’t summon any words and he was quite grateful when Crozier kept talking.

“I received this book in the post last week. It’s by someone who has done similar anatomical research on mermaids. I’ve been aware of him for a time. His evolutionary theories are… wholly inaccurate, but I can’t discount his basic anatomical work on mermaids at the very least, as they’re quite similar to my own findings.” Crozier held out the book for Edward to take.

“Are you thinking of revisiting the notes from your second paper?” Edward asked, his eyes falling to the book that Crozier had handed him, “The Codex of Extinct Animalia.” 

“No,” Crozier said, shaking his head slightly. “Any further research I do on mermaids will be for my own intellectual pursuit. Mermaids are intelligent creatures, more akin to a different race of people than any animal, meaning there are added concerns when it comes to their study.”

It made sense, Edward thought, as he flipped open the book, thumbing through the pages concerning a supposed sphinx until he reached the beginning of the section on mermaids. There was hardly any factual information presented aside from a series of detailed anatomical drawings; the short blurb that appeared next to the first two plates seemed almost entirely theoretical. He frowned.

Crozier chuckled and Edward looked up. “I had just about the same reaction. The blurbs for some of the other creatures are even shorter. What are your thoughts?”

“If I hadn’t read your paper first and seen your drawings, I would have assumed this was a work of fiction,” Edward admitted. He did not remember the drawings from Crozier’s paper exactly (and he had returned the paper to George), but they seemed similar enough and Crozier seemed to think so too. “Who sent it?”

“Ross. He requested an advance copy from the publisher for me as soon as he heard about it.” He chuckled again. “Apparently Dr. Black sent him a long letter thanking him for his interest as a member of the scientific community.”

Then he shook his head with a sigh. “Regardless of his incorrect theories, there is some accuracy to those drawings as I said, and I frankly find myself relieved that his work has been so widely dismissed. I know you are skeptical still, which is a good thing for a naval officer to be, but if you would imagine for a moment what might happen if mermaids became public knowledge. Exotic creatures with an intelligence rivaling our own. The scientific community would call for the capture of specimens, the public would clamor to see them in sideshows, museums, zoos and private collections. They would be killed for the sake of being studied and displayed as a novelty. Animals have been hunted to extinction for less.” 

Edward was silent for several long moments as Crozier’s words sunk in. He could see it clearly; the Navy sending out expeditions to try and locate underwater colonies despite not knowing whether mermaids lived in colonies or if they were solitary, whalers adding mermaids to their quarry, mermaid scales becoming the next most fashionable thing to grace women’s clothes and accessories. He’d gotten one of his sisters a handbag embroidered with fish scales for her birthday just last year.

“That’s why you stopped your research, not because of how your research was shot down,” Edward said.

“After my research was rejected and ridiculed I threw myself into it with twice as much vigor,” Crozier began. “There was much I’d left out of the first paper, more anecdotal experience, but that’s hardly what you want in a proper scientific paper… Then a live one took up residence nearby.”

Edward inhaled sharply. That would be the ultimate proof, wouldn’t it? A real mermaid living on the Irish coast. Crozier could have been lauded and redeemed himself in the eyes of his peers, but he’d chosen to leave his research behind instead.

“Is… is she still there?”

Crozier grinned. “ _He_ is. Those buckets I have you bring out at night don’t fill themselves. Put them out tonight and I’ll take you with me when I go down to the beach in the morning.”

Edward was awoken by sharp rapping on his bedroom door a good few hours before he typically roused himself for the day. He’d been quite enjoying getting to be somewhat more leisurely in his rising now that he wasn’t beholden to a naval schedule.

The sun was just starting to come over the horizon by the time Edward stumbled downstairs.

“Is there a reason you go down this early?” He asked as Crozier pressed a cup of coffee into his hands.

Crozier drained his own cup before answering. “Thomas is largely nocturnal. I try not to make requests of him during the day.”

Edward blinked. With his mind still fogged with sleep he couldn’t place the name to anyone they’d spoken about. “Thomas?”

“Our merman,” Crozier clarified, and Edward immediately felt like an idiot.

However, Crozier didn’t seem particularly bothered by Edward’s slip. He merely clapped him on the shoulder as he made his way out of the kitchen. “There’s bread and some preserves in the cupboard if you want to put more than coffee in your stomach before we head out.”

Edward did, in fact, want to do that, but he tried to be quick about it and took his breakfast with him as he made his way to grab his coat and join Crozier outside.

Edward’s first view of the merman came as he and Crozier rounded the turn that led down to the cove where he had left the buckets the night before, and he was so stunned he very nearly stopped walking. He was a gorgeous creature, though far less human looking that Edward had perhaps expected.

His skin was striped with deep red, orange and a white that seemed to glow softly in the dim early morning light, and his hair, a similarly deep red, was so dark it was almost black. The fins coming off of his arms, back and tail were also patterned in stripes and drooped somewhat as the merman sat out of the water on a rock, where he was busying himself cracking open shellfish with a small blade.

He looked up as the sound of Edward and Crozier’s footsteps drew closer. Edward had barely a glimpse of striking ice blue eyes before the merman, quick as a blink, lunged back into the water.

Beside him Crozier swore. “I should have come down last night to warn him,” he muttered.

Edward had been so caught up in the awe of witnessing the merman—Thomas, he reminded himself as he watched Crozier stride down the beach, calling out that it was safe to come out—that he had forgotten that he might be considered a threat. He watched from some paces away as the merman reappeared from behind the rock he’d been perched on before, gliding up into the shallows in front of Crozier. There was a brief, hushed conversation between them, and then Crozier beckoned Edward over.

He swallowed, suddenly quite nervous about the prospect of actually _speaking_ to a creature whose existence he’d still thought doubtful up until the day before. Even then, he wasn’t sure he’d really believed it until seeing for himself just now. But then he took a deep breath and forced himself to move forward.

The merman was watching Edward as he approached, and Edward wasn’t sure if he was relieved or more worried at the curious gaze with which he was being appraised. He didn’t notice that Crozier had gone off to examine the now full specimenbuckets until he’d reached the water’s edge and found himself alone with the merman.

“I was wondering when the captain would bring you to meet me,” the merman ( _Thomas_ , Edward forcefully reminded himself again); said, drawing himself up to sit on the sand. His words were more clipped and polished than Edward had expected, though there was a strange lilt to them he couldn’t quite place.

Edward dropped down onto the sand just out of reach of the tide, just aware enough that he ought not get his pants wet in the chill December air. “He only told me about you yesterday,” he said, and regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. It was horribly awkward. He should have introduced himself first, at least.

But Thomas simply laughed. His open smile revealed rows of sharply pointed teeth, and Edward was abruptly reminded of the many stories he’d heard over the years of mermaids drowning sailors.

“I suppose I can’t hold that against you, then,” Thomas said at length, glancing over to where Crozier was examining the contents of the buckets. “The captain has always been very careful of my safety.”

Edward didn’t know what to say to that, finding himself rather caught up in the sight of Thomas once more. The glow of his eyes and the white stripes of skin was fading with the growing light, but he didn’t look any less stunning.

Thomas turned back to him and cocked his head when he noticed Edward staring. “You keep watching me.”

Edward flushed and ducked his head. “You’re very…” He fought to find the right word. “Exotic,” he settled on eventually, but even that didn’t feel quite right. “I don’t think I’ve even seen a _fish_ like you before.”

“The captain says I look like a… like a…” Thomas scrunched up his face. “P-te-rois radi-ata.”

“A clearfin lionfish,” Crozier said, joining the two of them once again.“They live in the Pacific. I first met Thomas off the Cape of Good Hope when Ross and I were doing work in the Antarctic and surrounding regions.”

A clearfin lionfish. Edward glanced down Thomas’s body and, sure enough, as the name indicated, the fins along Thomas’s tail were mostly clear, with only thin lines of reddish orange running through them. Without thinking he reached out to touch one of the fins on Thomas’s tail, but Thomas grabbed his wrist before he could.

“Best not,” he said. “Venomous spines.”

Edward withdrew his hand quickly. “My apologies. I wasn’t thinking. Are… do all of your fins have spines?”

“Not all,” Thomas said. He flexed his back and what Edward had taken as thin fin filaments on his back raised and he realized that they were actually sharp barbs. “Most are on my back, but the fins along my arms have them and I have smaller barbs surrounding the fins on my tail.”

When Thomas relaxed the spines at his back drooped again. “I know how to be careful with them, but that only does so much if you touch me without knowing where they are.”

“I shouldn’t have tried to touch you anyway,” Edward said. It was hardly appropriate. They’d only been acquainted for a matter of minutes after all.

Thomas smiled softly. “Thank you.”

They lapsed into silence as Edward tried to grasp for something to say. He was spared, however, when Crozier tapped him on the shoulder.

“I’m going to need your help getting these back to the house,” Crozier said. “Thomas has rather overfilled them.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Forgive me for wanting to share my bounty of mussels. I found a new mussel bed and I thought you might appreciate some.” He reached out toward the bucket containing the mussels, wiggling his fingers, which Edward now noticed were slightly webbed. “But if you don’t _want_ them.”

Crozier laughed. “I’ll accept your gift, but I’m going to make Edward carry them back to the house.” 

Thomas’s eyes flicked over to Edward and then back to Crozier. If Edward didn’t know better, he’d say Thomas looked almost disappointed. The expression was only on his face for a moment as it was cut off by a sharp yawn.

“Yes, and I’ll get back to my dinner.” Thomas yawned again.

“And then perhaps sleep,” Crozier said, and Thomas chuckled. “Yes.”

Then, much to Edward’s surprise, Thomas turned his attention back to him. “Will you come back tonight?”

“I…” Edward swallowed.

“Come down just before sunset,” Thomas said, before turning and hauling himself back into water deep enough that he could submerge himself and swim back to his rocky perch to collect the remains of his hastily abandoned meal.

Edward watched Thomas until the merman disappeared beneath the waves and did not resurface.

Edward was positively bursting with questions and no idea how to ask any of them, which seemed to have been his general state over the course of the past month or so. Meeting Thomas had answered some of them, but had raised twice as many. He supposed he might get more answers talking to him this evening, but would putting all those questions to Thomas be _polite_? What did he know of mermaid etiquette?

These thoughts were rattling around as Edward set to his work for the day, and none of his tasks led to suitable distraction to keep his mind from wandering. He was lost in thought, wondering if all mermaids looked as… fish-like as Thomas, when a knock on the doorframe startled him and he dropped the pile of papers he’d been holding. He started mournfully at the scattered papers on the floor, which he’d just spent the last hour sorting and cataloguing, for a long moment before turning to see Crozier standing in the doorway.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Crozier said. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m going into town. Thomas gave us a frankly unreasonable number of mussels, so I’m going to take some into town to sell or barter. I should be back before the time you’re meeting with Thomas, but if I’m not there’s no need to wait for me.”

Edward nodded. “Is there anything you need done while you’re out?”

“Nothing in particular,” Crozier replied with a shake of his head. “I’ve taken care of the specimens Thomas brought in, but if you’d like to sketch them before I dissect them tomorrow you are welcome to. I’ve put them in the big glass tank in my office. Though I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to organize anything in there just yet.” He gave a dry chuckle. “There _is_ a method to my madness.”

“Of course, sir.” Edward looked about the parlor and then back to the pile of papers on the floor. “I’ve still got work to do in here, anyway.”

Trying to do more than clean up and reorganize the spilled papers had proved utterly ineffectual, though not for lack of trying on Edward’s part. He hadn’t been able to focus on organizing, and trying to draw Crozier’s new specimens had just made Edward wonder if Crozier had ever drawn Thomas and what it might be like if _he_ asked if he could draw Thomas. Drawing had never been his strong suit, would his skills even be suitable to capture Thomas’s strange beauty?

Eventually he settled down at his desk to write to George and let him know that he’d uncovered _something_ and perhaps if Captain Crozier allowed it, he could come down and visit. He must have written and rewritten and torn up and burned half a dozen versions, before he heard the clatter of the door opening and empty buckets being dropped on the floor. Edward glanced out the window, the sun was well on its way to setting and he scrambled to his feet. He was running late.

Taking barely enough time to make sure he was presentable, Edward hurried downstairs to grab his coat and boots, and nearly collided with Crozier as he came down the stairs.

“Steady there,” Crozier said, one hand coming to steady Edward as Edward jerked back to avoid colliding fully with the older man, while the other held a parcel loosely wrapped in a small towel.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Edward managed to get out as he caught his breath.

Crozier shook his head. “Not a worry. I half expected you to be gone already given the hour.”

“I lost track of time.” He felt terrible about it. He’d known Thomas for less than a day and he was already letting him down.

“Thomas will forgive you I’m sure,” Crozier said, and he held out the parcel to Edward. “Especially if you give him these.”

Edward took the bundle. It was lighter than he expected. “What is it?”

“Pastries,” Crozier said. “Now get going, it’s only going to get colder the darker it gets.”

Edward nodded and hurried off again.

It was bitterly cold and windy outside, but the small cove where Edward had first met Thomas was relatively sheltered and Edward began to feel warmer as soon as he was out of the bite of the wind.

The beach was empty and growing darker by the minute as the sunbegan making it way below the horizon. Edward didn’t know if he was meant to wait for Thomas quietly or do something to let him know he was there. Crozier had called out to Thomas before to get him to come out, and Edward was late.

“Thomas?” He tried, feeling rather foolish shouting out to the sea. He called out twice more, before sighing and sitting down on the sand. If there was nothing after ten minutes he’d head back.

Fortunately, he didn’t even have to wait half of that, because a few moments later glowing lines appeared in the shallows and then emerged as Thomas hauled himself up on the shore. Edward got up to meet him half way, so that Thomas didn’t have to haul himself too far onto dry land.

“You came,” Thomas said, with a wide smile. The soft glow from his skin made him look positively ethereal and his eyes seemed like pools of pure light against the dark red and orange whirls on his face.

Edward ducked his head sheepishly. “My apologies. I lost track of time.”

“It’s all right,” Thomas said. “It gets dark so fast this time of year I can hardly blame you. I was rather more worried I’d frightened you off, you looked awfully worried this morning.”

“I… it was shocking to see you, is all,” Edward said. “I may be a sailor, but I’ve never been one to put much stock in mermaid stories.”

“Are you a captain too?” Thomas asked, and Edward shook his head.

“No, I’m just a lieutenant. Captain would be two ranks above me. I’d be promoted to commander next, and then, if I’m very lucky, make captain eventually.”

Thomas hummed. “Sounds complicated.” 

“I suppose it is,” Edward said. He imagined trying to explain the rest of the naval hierarchy to Thomas, and found he did think it rather a complex thing to go over. There were much better topics of conversation besides.

Edward hadn’t realized how long he’d been quite until Thomas spoke again.

“Have you eaten dinner?”

“No, I uh, well, I lost track of time as I said. I was writing a letter to a friend, didn’t grab anything to eat before I came down.” He remembered the pastries Crozier had given to him. “Crozier did get something for you though, when he went into town.”

Something bright and happy flashed in Thomas’s eyes and Edward held out the wrapped parcel.

“Wait just a moment,” Thomas said, holding up a hand. “There’s something I want to get first.”

Before Edward had time to respond Thomas was gliding back intothe water and within seconds his tail had flicked out of sight beneath the waves.

Edward remained where he was, trying not to fiddle with the cloth of the parcel. He didn’t want to inadvertently crush anything inside. Thomas was… not what he had expected. He was nothing like any of the stories would have suggested. Perhaps that was because he was simply not the type to drown sailors. Perhaps different mermaid species had different temperaments, and sharp teeth did not necessarily mean Thomas had a taste for human flesh. Edward imagined he ate mostly fish and other sea foods.

As he was in the midst of these thoughts, Thomas returned, and dropped a small satchel before Edward on the sand. “Open it.”

Edward did as he was told, setting down the wrapped pastries on the dry sand next to him.

The bag was cold and quite slick to the touch, and as Edward peered closer, he realized it was made of woven seaweed. It made quite a lot of sense for merpeople to need bags and he wondered what other tools mermaids had developed. After a moment of simply admiring the bag, he flipped it open.

He looked up at Thomas. “Oysters?”

“I thought ifyou hadn’t eaten before you came down we could have a meal together,” Thomas said, and for the first time since they’d met he seemed almost shy. Almost. “I know human meals are more than just oysters but…”

“No, no it’s perfect,” Edward interjected. “Simple is good sometimes. And…” he reached for the pastries again. “They may go quite well with what Crozier got you.”

Thomas accepted the parcel and drew himself a bit further up the beach so he could open it without getting it wet. He let out a delighted gasp as he realized the contents. “Oh, this _is_ perfect. There’s enough for both of us.”

Sure enough, there were four pastries nestled in the fabric, two of each sort.

Thomas carefully spread out the towel holding the pastries so it acted as a sort of picnic blanket between them and, without prompting, Edward began laying out the oysters on the towel as well. He was about to ask Thomas if he had something to open the oysters with, when he discovered the small knife he had seen Thomas with that morning in the bottom of the bag.

“Do you know what’s in these?” Thomas asked. He held up a small filled pastry roll and poked at the exposed filling. “It’s sticky.”

“Fruit filled probably,” Edward said. Chocolate wouldn’t be sticky the way fruit was. “But Crozier didn’t tell me exactly what kinds of pastry he got.”

“Hmm…” Thomas eyed the pastry for another moment before taking a tentative bite.

It was fascinating to watch Thomas. He looked so determined to figure out what he was eating. “It’s grainy…” Thomas said after several moments of chewing. “Are there any particularly grainy fruits?”

Edward could think of a handful that might be considered grainy for the amount of seeds in them, but he didn’t think he could identify a fruit based on texture alone, particularly not one that had been so cooked down, and he told Thomas as much.

Thomas held out the half eaten pastry to Edward. “You taste it then.”

Their hands brushed as Edward took the pastry from Thomas andEdward felt a shiver run up his spine at the contact. He took a small bite before handing it back to Thomas.

“Fig,” he said after a moment. “It’s fig.” Not a fruit Edward liked much in a pastry, but he didn’t say that.

As it turned out, Thomas didn’t much like the other pastry Crozier had gotten, buns filled with strawberry jam—he found them too sweet, so Edward said that he would eat those and Thomas could have both of the fig rolls.

Thomas ate slowly, but finished the first roll before reaching for one of the oysters. “Can you open these on your own?”

“Ah, I can if you show me,” Edward said, he picked up the knife to pass it to Thomas, but Thomas shook his head.

“You use that,” he said. “I’ll walk you through it.”

Thomas, as it turned out, didn’t actually need the knife to open oysters, his claws were both hard and sharp enough to crack through the hinge of an oyster with perfect ease.

“The knife was a gift from the captain,” Thomas said, cracking open a second oyster and tossing it back as Edward was still teasing open his first. “I’d hurt my hand, which made it difficult to get at some of the bigger shellfish. It’s much easier to use than simply trying to smash them open with a rock.”

“Why do you always call Crozier, ‘the captain’ instead of his name?” Edward asked, finally popping open his oyster. He felt rather pleased with himself and he followed Thomas’s example in eating the oyster directly from the shell.

“His name is very hard for me to say,” Thomas said. “Francis isn’t as hard to say as… as… as his last name, but captain is easier. It’s also somewhat of a habit at this point, my English was much worse when we first met so I called him what came easiest and he never minded.”

Edward had wondered about the odd lilt of Thomas’s voice, but it would make a great deal of sense if he had his own native language before English. “Is my name difficult to say?”

Thomas became very focused on the oyster he was opening for a moment before admitting, “Somewhat yes.”

“What about Ned?” Edward asked. “Is that any easier to say?”

It was shorter at any rate, but Edward didn’t know what made his name particularly difficult to say for Thomas.

“Ned…” Thomas said the name a few more times, as if he was trying to get the feel of it in his mouth. “Yes, that’s much easier to say. And it’s all right to call you that?”

Edward nodded. “It’s a nickname for Edward. It’s been mostly my family that’s called me that, but you can use it too.”

Thomas smiled. “Ned then.”

Despite winter’s chill, Edward spent as much time as possible down by the water with Thomas. After that first night with Thomas he had wondered if, perhaps, this was how mermaids really lured sailors to their deaths. Finding a lonely sailor on an isolated spot of coast, drawing him in, and then grabbing and drowning him once he got comfortable. It would be easier to hide on a quiet coastline than in an area frequently trafficked by ships.

Still, Crozier hadn’t gone missing, and none of Edward’s anxious poking about in town turned up anything about people from town going missing with any more regularity than the odd child running off to seek their fortunes in some city. Ultimately, he decided that he was so entranced with Thomas because he was a sailor, and what sailor wouldn’t be fascinated by such a creature?

Besides, Thomas was charming and a very pleasant companion, and he would have been so even not being a merman. They had shared countless other late night meals together, trading stories, with Thomas bringing up some manner of shellfish for them to eat and Edward occasionally providing various foods purchased from town. It had been one of those nights when Thomas had first asked Edward if he would come swim with him.

Edward had panicked and said he couldn’t before he’d even thought of a reason why.

Thomas had tilted his head and asked, “Can you not swim?”

“No, no, I can swim, it’s just…” Edward had wracked his brain for several moments before he realized the very obvious answer of “The water’s far too cold for me to be swimming in right now.”

Thomas’s face had still been rather crestfallen, even at that answer, but Edward had swallowed his fears and promised Thomas that once warm weather came he would be happy to join him.

“So you will still be here come spring?” Thomas had asked.

Edward had shrugged and told Thomas quite honestly that he’d made no plans as to when he might leave and he was surprisingly content helping Crozier with his work.

Throughout the early spring months, Thomas took to bringing Edward various trinkets from the ocean floor. It started with an intricately carved oyster shell with an etching of the cove where they always met. When Edward asked where Thomas had found it, Thomas had beamed and said he’d done it himself.

Following the etching, Thomas brought him a series of colorful shells and sea glass, a small driftwood figure of a whale and a small handful of pearls.

“There are six,” Thomas said, pushing them around to count them where they sat in Edward’s palm. “I remembered you told me you had six sisters.”

Edward had mentioned his sisters to Thomas after he’d gotten a letter from Margaret asking if he’d be coming to their parents’ home for Christmas since he was on land. Edward had declined in favor of spending more time with Thomas, giving some half-hearted excuse about needing to mind the house while Crozier was traveling himself. The latter bit had been true, since Crozier had spent Christmas through New Years with Ross and his wife, but the house didn’t necessarily need to be minded as they had no live specimens at present that required the house to not get too cold, and Thomas certainly didn’t need minding either.

“They’ll love these,” Edward said, smiling broadly at Thomas. “Thank you, I’m touched you remembered.”

“You spoke of them so fondly,” Thomas said. “It reminded me of mysisters and brother, but we don’t… it’s not…”He let out a shaky breath, his gaze trailing out to the open ocean. “We leave our family groups once we are old enough, but our family wound up scattered earlier than most.”

“I’m sorry,” Edward reached out carefully to take Thomas’s hand. Thomas had shown him where all his spines were so that Edward wouldn’t worry about touching or being touched by Thomas, and Edwardwas very glad he had, although casual touches didn’t happen between them the way it might between two men. They couldn’t really. Care was a necessity for touching Thomas—Crozier had even classed him based on his toxins as _Siren venefica_ , however, and because of that every time Edward touched Thomas it was with much more thought and intent than he normally put into any touches. It was overwhelming and every time he or Thomas pulled away, he felt oddly bereft.

Thomas’s smile was brittle when he turned back to Edward. “It’s not your fault, the sea comes with it’s predators… My mother…” He swallowed. “My mother was maimed by a shark and… well, I’m sure you know that many of your human things end up on the bottom of the ocean, but us merfolk, we’re familiar with your alcohol to say the least and my mother would use it to numb the pain.”

Edward squeezed Thomas’s hand, rubbing soft circles with his thumb.

“I tried to keep her from drinking too much.” Thomas shook his head. “I thought bringing her smaller bottles of things would help, but one night she just didn’t wake up and I was left to care for my younger siblings.”

“You did your best for her, and I’m sure you did as well by your siblings as you could,” Edward said, gently. He hoped it was comforting and his heart sank when Thomas shook his head again.

“I barely had the chance. I had a run in with a whaler some months later and nearly didn’t survive.” His breath hitched and Edward bit back a wince as Thomas tightened his grip on Edward’s hand, causing his claws to dig into Edward’s skin.

“The captain saved me, that’s how we met.” Edward was startled by the splash of Thomas’s tail as he flicked it up and rolled his hips to the side, but his eyes caught on the large discolored scar, running a good six inches just below one of his pelvic fins.

“He stitched me up and found me a nice quiet bay to recover in, but it was so long before I was able to make it home by the time I did my siblings were gone, moved on somewhere else, likely assuming I was dead.”

“Was that when you decided to look for Crozier again?” Edward asked.

“After a time,” Thomas said. “I tried to track down my siblings first, but to no avail. When I gave up I was off the coast of England and I remembered the captain telling me he was from Ireland, so I started looking for him instead.”

“I’m glad you did.”

Thomas frowned slightly, and he watched Edward expectantly, as if silently asking him to continue or explain.

“I… not that… I don’t mean to say that I’m glad you stopped looking for your siblings. I just…” He swallowed, he was making a terrible blunder of this. “If you hadn’t gone to look for Captain Crozier again, I never would have met you.”

It was a relief to see a genuine smile cross Thomas’s lips at that. “I am glad we met. I think you might be my favorite human, Ned.”

Edward was stunned and he could feel his face growing hot. “You said Crozier saved you…”

“Yes, but the captain doesn’t come and take meals on the beach with me, or tell me stories about his family, or go out of his way to hold my hand.” Thomas lifted Edward’s hand and frowned when he noticed he’d broken skin. “Oh, Ned, I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized-”

Edward cut him off with a shake of his head. “It’s all right. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

Thomas didn’t seem wholly satisfied with that answer, but he didn’t press either, which Edward was grateful for.

“Was there somewhere you were going with that list?” Edward asked, steering them back to their previous topic.

“Oh! Yes,” Thomas said and with a few swift movements of his tail he had slipped back down the sand into the water, tugging Edward forward lightly. “You did promise you’d swim with me when it got warmer.”

Edward swallowed. “I did.”

In truth, he had been hard pressed to think of anything else since the weather had begun warming.

“Will the water be warm enough for you now?” Thomas asked, cocking his head.

It was the middle of the day, so the sun would be warming in a way that Edward wouldn’t have at night. It still might be relatively cool, but it wasn’t December.

“Yes,” Edward decided. “Yes, but you’ll need to let go of me so I can get undressed.” He could go in with his clothes on, but he’d rather have them dry so he could warm up afterward.

Thomas let Edward go in an instant and then disappeared fully into the water for several moments before reappeared further out.

He likely needed it, Edward thought. Thomas had told him that laying out in the sun for too long dried out his scales, which probably also had to do with why Thomas wanted Edward to spend time in the water with him. It really was only fair.

The water was still quite cold, but if he gave himself time to adjust as he waded out to Thomas, it wasn’t so bad.

“I want to show you something,” Thomas said, taking Edward’s hand. “But I need you to trust me and I need you to come under the water with me.”

The fears of being dragged down to his death flashed through his mind, but he shooed them away with the thought that Thomas wouldn’t be _asking_ him if he planned to kill him.

Edward nodded and Thomas returned the gesture.

“On three,” Thomas said. “One… two…”

Edward took a deep breath and at Thomas’s count of “three,” he ducked beneath the waves.

It was a jolt of cold, but he found he almost felt warmer fully submerged. He blinked his eyes open then shut them just as quickly. The sand and salt burned his eyes and made it difficult to see, but Thomas had wanted to _show_ him something, so he tried again.

Suddenly, Thomas’s hand was gone from his. Edward tried to track Thomas with his eyes, but Thomas was barely a shadow in front of him, his glowing phosphorescence was no help as it simply wasn’t dark enough to be of use. Then Thomas was immediately in front of him and his hands were cupping Edward’s face, claws ghosting over his cheekbones. Edward stilled, unsure of what Thomas meant to do… and that was when Thomas leaned in and kissed him.

It was over just as quickly as quickly as it had begun, but it left Edward’s head spinning none-the-less, and it was several moments before Edward realized that he was no longer holding his breath and another moment to realize his eyes were no longer burning and that he could see Thomas much more clearly through the sandy water.

Panic was welling in his chest and he tried to breath—ha!—through it. He glanced down at himself, he was still human, still had legs. Then was this… was he dead?

Edward was spared more panicked thoughts when Thomas reached for him again. “Ned, you’re all right, Ned.”

Thomas’s voice sounded much more distant than made sense, but sound did move differently through water, didn’t it?

Edward opened his mouth. “Thomas?” he tried, unsure if he could be heard.

Thomas smiled, though his eyes were still anxious. “I’m right here. Can you breathe all right? Can you see?”

Edward nodded, though he tried taking in a deep breath to make sure he could, despite his mind screaming that he would choke on water. He didn’t. It was unreal.

Thomas reached out for Edward, cupping his cheek again. “This won’t last long. I need you to tell me the moment it becomes difficult to breathe.”

Still too stunned for speech, Edward simply nodded again.

“Good. Now follow me.” Thomas stroked his thumb over Edward’s cheek briefly before pulling away and swimming off.

Finally managing to gather his wits again (and only a little panicked about being left behind), Edward began swimming after him.

He needn’t have worried, as Thomas kept a quite leisurely pace. It was apparent that Thomas usually swam much faster, but Edward, who was not a frequent swimmer, would never have been able to keep up, even without him having to consciously remind himselfto breathe.

Eventually, Thomas drew to a halt and looked up, Edward realized that they were up against the cliff face. He looked to Thomas, hoping he might give some answer without Edward having to ask.

“We’re going down now, if your ears start to hurt, swallow. It will relieve the pressure.”

Thomas did not wait for Edward’s response before diving down, and Edward followed as quickly as he could.

The deeper they got, the more obvious Thomas’s glow became; and the more visibly lit up Thomas became, the less Edward found himself worrying about losing him.

Eventually, Thomas stopped once more, and Edward realized that they were at the mouth of an underwater cave. “What is this?”

“My home,” Thomas said simply before gliding inside and gesturing for Edward to follow.

Thomas’s home… Edward had wondered where Thomas lived when he wasn’t hanging around the beach, but he’d never been able to visualize what that space might look like.

The cave they arrived in was very dark, and Edward could only really make out the areas immediately around Thomas that were bathed in the light coming off him. The dimness didn’t last long however, as Thomas set about rummaging around and uncovered a series of jars filled with particles that gave off a soft blue light.

“What are they?” Edward asked, swimming closer to examine one of the jars, though he did not pick it up, or even touch it, for fear of breaking it.

“Plankton,” Thomas said, and Edward started a bit as Thomas brushed up next to him, the scales of his tail brushing against his bare legs.

He was suddenly _very_ aware of his nakedness.

Thomas tapped on the glass of the jar. “They are phos-phor-e-scent, like me, and fairly easy to collect for light. If you can keep them alive and reproducing you don’t even need to replace them. I only had one jar when I arrived, but now I have plenty.”

“It’s very clever,” Edward said, which made Thomas beam in that way that always made Edward’s stomach flutter.

Edward didn’t know how much time they spent, with Thomas flitting about his cave showing Edward this and that. Things he’d collected over the years: a cone snail shell (sans the deadly cone snail) that had been a gift from his mother; two slim perfume vials, one empty and one still full; a tin box full of buttons; a medallion that Edward identified as an officer’s medal…

It was while Thomas was showing Edward the oyster shells he had begun carving that Edward realized that his chest had grown tight, each breath more painful and difficult than the last. He gave a harsh gasp and grasped for Thomas, very nearly colliding with the spines of the fins on his arm before finding his hand.

“Thomas I…”

He didn’t need to say more than that, because in the blink of an eye, Thomas had yanked Edward close in a pseudo-embrace and shot upward.

Edward squeezed his eyes shut, holding his breath as Thomas swam out of fear that if he breathed out, he might not be able to breath in again. Then they broke the water’s surface and Edward sucked in a deep breath of damp air. He coughed a moment as he collected himself.

Thomas watched him, his pale eyes betraying his concern. “Will you be all right if I let you go?”

“Yes,” Edward breathed out, and Thomas released him.

He dipped back underwater briefly before pulling himself up again and beginning to tread.

“Swim to the cave’s edge,” Thomas said. “There’s a platform, you can climb out if you need to.”

Edward didn’t need to be told twice. After all that swimming lying down on dry land for a moment seemed quite the appealing prospect.

As he hauled himself up onto the rocks, the room was suddenly bathed in a familiar, warm yellow light. Fire light. Edward scanned the room, finding Thomas just as he was sliding shut the cracked cover of an oil lamp.

“It’s nice isn’t it,” Thomas said. “It doesn’t do me much good underwater, but it’s nice to sit up here sometimes, and it’s warm.”

He left the lamp to swim over to Edward. “It didn’t work when I first found it, but the captain gave me some wicks and oil. It’s one of my favorite things in my collection.” 

“Have you ever brought Crozier down here?” Edward asked. He wouldn’t say the question was prompted by jealousy, per se, it was just… well this all felt rather special, and it would be even more special if it was something that only they shared.

Much to Edward’s joy, Thomas shook his head. “I’ve asked, but he said he’d rather not. Something about wanting my spaces left a secret so I can’t be found. I do understand his caution,” Thomas continued, leaning his arms on the rocky edge of the pool and resting his chin on his hands. “But he knows how to keep a secret. I wouldn’t have offered to show him if I didn’t trust him.”

“And you trust me too?” It was implied through his words about Crozier, but hearing it explicitly from Thomas would do more to settle the nerves he’d get about someone finding Thomas. He’d dreamt of it more than once. Some charlatan finding Thomas and stealing him away to be kept in a glass cage.

“Of course,” Thomas said, drawing himself a bit further out of the water to reach out to rest his hand on Edward’s ankle. “You’re always so careful, and I know for certain the captain wouldn’t have introduced us if he’d thought you unsafe. He’s never introduced me to one of his assistants before, you know. You’re the first.”

Edward blinked. He hadn’t known that. “Crozier’s never mentioned having other assistants.”

Thomas laughed. “He wouldn’t. They either didn’t stay past the first few weeks when they realized how tight lipped he was about his merfolk research or he got rid of them because he found them too curious in a bad way.” He shook his head. “That’s how the last one went. The captain said he found him rifling around in his office.”

“He didn’t find anything did he?” Edward asked. The idea that someone might have come close to discovering and potentially hurting Thomas turned his stomach.

“No, thankfully.” Thomas began absentmindedly rubbing his thumb along the joint of Edward’s ankle in a way that was viciously distracting. “The captain keeps all his research well hidden. He won’t even tell me where he keeps it. He just says, ‘It’s for the best you don’t know.’”

Edward chuckled at Thomas’s impression of Crozier’s brogue. “I’m detecting a pattern.” He paused, weighing whether or not this was the right moment for the question he wanted to ask. “Would you… would you trust my judgement of character? If I said I had a friend who I think you’d like and who I know would like to meet you, would you trust my judgement of his character?”

Thomas frowned thoughtfully. “I think that would depend.” He pulled his hand back from Edward’s ankle and slid a bit lower into the water so the only things above water were his shoulders, head, and his hands where they were holding on to the rocky ledge.

Edward quickly found himself missing Thomas’s touch, but the worry on Thomas’s face was even more concerning.

“How do you see me, Ned? Am… Am I just a curiosity to you? Something to be shown off and furtively shared around?”

Edward sat up sharply. “No!” 

Thomas jerked back and sunk further into the water, and Edward winced.

“I’m sorry, I… no. No, not at all Thomas.” He offered his hand to Thomas. “I… you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met, even if you weren’t a mermaid.”

There was so much Edward thought to say, how Thomas was lovely and thoughtful and kind, how he made Edward want to be the best version of himself…but he didn’t know how to say any of it.

Thomas watched Edward a moment longer, before grabbing Edward’s hand firmly and hauling himself up to sit on the ledge while keeping his tail in the water.“Why do you want me to meet your friend then?”

Edward hung his head. “It’s selfish,” he admitted. “I want to be able to tell someone about you. Not that you’re a merman, just… I want to be able to tell my sisters about the thoughtful man who found those pearls for them, tell my friends about the new friend I’ve made who’s ridiculously clever and knows how to weave fabric out of seaweed, but I can’t… because it’s not safe for you and I don’t want to put you in jeopardy, but George, the friend I mentioned, he’s… well I trust him…”

Edward trailed off, finally looking back up at Thomas only to find him… smiling.

“You’re very sweet Edward,” Thomas said. “All right, tell me more about this friend of yours.”

“His name is George Hodgson,” Edward began, as relief sparked through his chest. “And he’s rather good at spending hours talking about absolutely nothing.”

Crozier let out a long sigh.

He and Edward were sitting at the kitchen table cleaning fish for a stew, and Edward had just laid out what he and Thomas had discussed about perhaps letting George in on all this.

“Edward… I…” Crozier sighed again, setting down his boning knife. “I don’t say this to be cruel, or to demean your friendship with Thomas. On the contrary, I am glad you’ve become friends, but how much do you trust yourself with your knowledge of him, and, furthermore, how long will this last? Your help has been invaluable, but it is only a matter of time before you go back to sea. What happens then? Does this become a story told around the wardroom table in a year’s time? If so, will you remember what details to omit?”

Edward had known that this arrangement wasn’t going to be a lasting one. Crozier and Ross had already published a preliminary article in a popular lay magazine concerning their research and had begun formal drafting of the paper they would be presenting to later in the year concerning their discovery of—thanks in large part to Thomas— a new species of saltwater clam that had been found on a whale skeleton. Edward’s use as an assistant would only last as long as he had work to do. He’d finished organizing Crozier’s old research months ago, and since then he’d taken the role of a student more than an assistant.

That had only changed with the publication of the new article, when Edward became tasked with sorting and replying to Crozier’s mail, barring any personal correspondence from the Rosses or Crozier’s family of course.

“I… I will have to return to the Navy sooner or later,” Edward admitted. “But I don’t want to… well… I’ve enjoyed the work I’ve done here with you, and I’d like it if my eventual return to the Navy did not bring an end to that.”

Crozier was quiet for several long moments. “You surprise me at every turn, Lt. Little.” He paused another moment. “If you truly want to keep up with the science of this, I’d recommend you try to get yourself into the discovery service. Endear yourself to the ship’s naturalist and you can do well by yourself in the sciences even without formal training.”

That was a thought that hadn’t occurred to Edward, and it was an appealing one, but it didn’t entirely solve the problem. “Thank you, sir. I’ll consider it once I’m ready to look for a ship, but I’d like to stay in touch with you and Thomas as well. I don’t _want_ all this to become a wardroom story. I’d… well, I can’t imagine my fellow officers would be keen on hearing about the boring year I spent organizing the papers of a disgraced professor because I couldn’t find a ship.”

Crozier barked out a laugh at that. “And what was the most interesting thing you found while here?”

“Your research. You may have been wrong once, but your work with Ross is sound, and that was what inspired me to join the discovery service, as it were.”

Crozier grinned, giving Edward a nod of approval. “So this friend of yours, is he as discerning as you?” 

“He’s…” Edward sighed. “No. He’s rather more inclined to tell rambling stories and spend his money unwisely at carnival sideshows. His interest in mermaids is fascination, curiosity, but it’s not malicious. He… if he were to make meeting Thomas into a wardroom story it would be told in such a way to be wholly unbelievable to anyone who didn’t know the truth of it, more so if he were told why secrecy was so important.”

Crozier hummed thoughtfully, though to Edward, it didn’t seem as though he looked particularly convinced.

“Why do you want to tell anyone at all?” Crozier asked at length. “You must be aware that the more people know about Thomas, the more people could make the mistake of revealing him to the wrong person.”

Edward’s gaze fell down to the table, and to the fish that he’d stopped skinning halfway through. “I want to have a friend I can talk to about all this.”

It was a selfish desire, Edward knew, and he’d told Thomas as much, but it was the truth and he hadn’t gotten as far into Crozier’s good graces as he had by lying.

“That is more than fair.”

Edward looked up in shock.

“I hadn’t considered what the weight of such knowledge might be to someone else,” Crozier continued. “I’ve always had Ross to discuss these matters with. He was right there with me when I first met Thomas. If you believe that your friend can be trusted, write to him to invite him here, but take care what you tell him as to why.”

“Of course, sir.”

Crozier picked up his boning knife again, then paused. “You know I’m surprised Thomas agreed to this.”

“He was reticent at first,” Edward admitted. “I don’t blame him. I did my best to explain my reasons, but I… I don’t really know what about what I said made him say yes.”

Crozier nodded. “He and I had a row… not… well, not too long after he came to see me. He was upset about my paper, for the reasons you might imagine, and hurt that all I seemed to want him for were prying examinations.”

“Was that why you abandoned your second paper?” Edward asked. “Because Thomas asked you to?”

“It was a demand, not a request.”

Crozier still looked poised to continue so Edward remained silent.

“You have called this desire of yours selfish,” Crozier said, after a few more moments’ silence. “Be mindful of that and don’t let your selfishness overcome your good sense. It is not your life on the line.”

The letter to George was not an easy letter to write. After the first three unsatisfactory starts, which harkened back to his earlier attempts at a letter to George that he had abandoned for the exact reasons Crozier had been so concerned about in their conversation on the matter, Edward sat down and forced himself to write out something, _anything,_ beginning to end.

From there it was a matter of tweaking words appropriately—still something to agonize over—and making sure it was both suitably vague and abundantly clear all at once. In the end it read:

_Dear George,_

_Apologies for the delay since my last letter. After my meeting with Sir James Ross, a number of things happened very quickly and I wanted to be sure I actually had something to tell you before I wrote again._

_Since late last year I have been working in the employ of Captain Francis Crozier as a research assistant of sorts. I’d never considered clams particularly interesting for anything other than dinner until now,but I’ve found myself greatly attracted to the marine sciences since I began this work some months ago. Furthermore, I was able to get some answers regarding the article your brother sent to you._

_If you aren’t required elsewhere, I would extend an invitation to visit me at the home of Captain Crozier. I will be remaining here through the summer at least. Write back at your convenience._

_Your friend,_

_Edward Little_

Edward sighed; this was as good as it was going to get. He blotted the ink carefully before folding and sealing the letter, fighting down the worry that it _still_ wasn’t quite right. It was direct in its request and vague enough that it wouldn’t rouse suspicion should it get waylaid. There was nothing to worry about, he hoped.

Gathering the replies to Crozier’s mail as well, Edward shoved everything into his satchel and headed downstairs. He had promised Crozier that he would make the weekly run into town today in part so that Crozier wouldn’t have to leave his research and writing, but he’d also had the ulterior motive of wanting to get Thomas something nice, maybe something from the bakery or some other little trinket.

He kept thinking on it as he hitched Crozier’s tired old mare, Betsy, to the rickety cart they used to haul groceries and other supplies to and from town. The last time he’d been in town he had seen stationery sets that came with simple wax seal stamps. There had been one that had a seashell pattern on it. It had looked like a scallop to Edward, or maybe a clam. He’d talked himself out of it, ultimately deciding that Thomas would probably prefer something useful. After all, what good would a wax seal be underwater? 

Edward was still thinking about what sort of gift Thomas might like to receive—outside of interesting foods—when he arrived in town some time later, but he did his best to shove those thoughts to the side. He’d already gotten a late start because of how long it had taken him to write the letter George, and he had a number of things he needed to get to before the shops closed.

Edward had just finished the last of the shopping errands when something in a nearby shop window caught his eye. It was a writing slate, and he was struck with the thought that he might teach Thomas to write and read so that they could exchange letters once it was finally time for Edward to leave. He immediately began walking toward the shop, which he realized was the stationery shop where he’d seen the wax stamp, but then stopped himself; he still needed to get to the post office to drop off the letters. Unfortunately, he also knew that the owner of the stationery shop tended to close far earlier than most of the other shops in town and, if he ran across town to the post office, he wouldn’t make it back in time.

After a few moments of agonizing, Edward saw his answer. A young man with a parcel under his arm.

“Excuse me, sir!” He called, taking a step toward the man.

The man turned, squinting at Edward a moment before smiling thinly. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I, ah,” Edward paused to take a breath. “I saw your parcel and was wondering if you were headed to the post office, and if so, if you might be able to post some letters for me. Everything’s paid for, I just need them dropped off.” 

“I am indeed,” the man said, still smiling. “And I’d been happy to drop off your letters, sir.”

The man held out his hand and Edward reached into his coat pocket for the small pile of letters, which he then passed over. “Thank you very much, Mr. …?”

“Hickey, Cornelius Hickey.”

“Edward Little,” Edward said, by way of introduction for himself. “Thank you again, Mr. Hickey.” 

Hickey slid the letters into his own coat pocket, and with a slight nod and an “Anytime, Mr. Little,” he turned to continue on his way.

Edward was frankly relieved that asking an utter stranger to drop off the letters for him had gone so smoothly, as he’d never really taken many pains to get to know the townsfolk the way Crozier did. Perhaps he ought to start, he thought as he made his way into the shop to inquire about the slate.

Edward was brimming with excitement as he made his way down to Thomas’s beach that evening. The writing slate and slate pencil he had purchased at the shop were neatly wrapped in brown paper and tucked under his arm. He also carried a book, a copy of the recently published “Hans Andersen’s Fairy Tales: A New Translation,” that he’d found on Crozier’s bookshelf. It seemed a good book to start teaching Thomas how to read with, as opposed to the more technical scientific texts that were far more abundant in the house.

As had become habit, Thomas was waiting for Edward on the beach with a small spread of shellfish waiting for them. Thomas had also taken to trying to coax Edward into trying edible plants from the ocean floor, but Edward found he didn’t quite have the taste for them. “Perhaps cooked I might like them better,” Edward had told Thomas once. They’d attempted to cook some on a later date, when Edward had made a fire to cook the fish Thomas had caught, but Edward still hadn’t liked them.

“What do you have there?” Thomas asked, immediately zeroing in on the wrapped parcel. He rather knew at this point that if Edward came with something wrapped it was for him. 

“A present,” Edward said, dropping down into the wet sand and holding the parcel out to Thomas.

Thomas hummed curiously, taking it from Edward and turning it over in his hands.

Edward found himself mesmerized at the sight of Thomas’s long delicate fingers. The swirls of orange and white stripes, softly glowing in the dim light; the delicate sheer webbing between his fingers; the care with which he unwrapped the package, using one sharp claw to cut the twine holding it together before removing the paper painstakingly slowly and setting it aside.

Tapping gently on the slate Thomas flipped it over to it’s front and picked up the slate pencil that had been secured with an additional piece of twine. “What are these for?”

“Writing,” Edward said. “I thought… well… I’m no teacher, but I thought you might like to learn, so we can exchange letters once I leave.”

Thomas looked stricken. “You’re leaving?”

“Not soon,” Edward said quickly. “I’ll be here through the summer at least, but I can’t stay forever. Eventually I’ll need to get back to the Navy. A man can only survive on half pay for so long.”

“I see,” Thomas said. He ran his hand over the slate. “Then yes, I ought to learn how to write, read too. The captain taught me some letters by drawing in the sand, but I could never practice as the tides just wash everything away underwater.”

Edward leaned forward to tap the wooden frame of the slate. “That’s what this is for. It’s a special type of stone and the pencil is too, you can make marks on it and it won’t immediately wash away in water. I made sure to inquire about that before I got it.”

Thomas smiled.

“I brought a book too,” Edward said. “But that can’t go underwater. I just thought… it might be useful for identifying letters.”

“And reading, once I get there of course,” Thomas added.

Thomas was a quick study. As it turned out, he did remember near all of what Crozier had previously taught him, so the presence of the slate quickly added a new dimension to their evenings together. Their meals were now accompanied by the scratch of pencil on slate and Thomas asking how to spell the various meal components: fish, oysters, clams, bread. Edward insisted on having Thomas try to sound the words out himself before giving him the answer, as Thomas became delightfully excited when he was able to find the correct spelling of a word on his own.

They also started reading the stories from the book after a time, Thomas would pick the story based on the title and make an attempt at starting the story, and then Edward would pick up where Thomas decided to give up. They read “The Ugly Duckling,” “The Storks,” and “The Wild Swans.” By the time they reached “The Portuguese Duck,” Thomas could stumble his way through whole paragraphs mostly unaided.

“Ned, look at this one,” Thomas said, thrusting the book in Edward’s face and interrupting his attempt at opening an oyster.

Edward’s eyes fell to the place on the page where Thomas was pointing. “The Little Mermaid.” That must have been why Crozier had this book in the first place.

“Would you like to start it? Or would you like me to read it?”

“I think I’d just like to listen, if that’s all right,” Thomas said. “Once I’ve heard it I might try reading it myself, but…”

“You’d like to hear the story without trying to think about each individual word at the same time?” Edward suggested, setting down his oyster to take the book.

Thomas sighed, clearly relieved. “Yes, exactly.”

“You don’t have to be learning at all times,” Edward said, gently, hoping to ease some of whatever anxiety was eating at Thomas. “You’ve made excellent progress in a very short amount of time.”

“Thank you,” Thomas murmured as he arranged himself comfortably on the sand. He picked up the oyster Edward had neglected and cracked it open with ease. “I just want to make sure I’m ready when you leave.”

“You will be,” Edward assured him. “There is plenty of time. I haven’t even begun making plans.”

Thomas brightened considerably at that, and he poked at Edward’s leg with one of his long fingers. “Read.”

Edward chuckled and flipped to the appropriate page. “The Little Mermaid. Far out in the ocean, where the water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, and as clear as crystal, it is very, very deep; so deep, indeed, that no cable could fathom it; many church steeples, piled one upon another, would not reach from the ground beneath to the surface of the water above.”

“I like this story better than most mermaid tales already,” Thomas said and Edward laughed and kept reading.

He read about the Sea King and his daughters, the daughters and their trips to the surface, the prince and the storm, the young princess’s desire to live among the humans.

Thomas, who had been making an assortment of pleased noises as Edward read, grew quiet at the discussion of souls and death. “That sounds terribly sad, that humans have souls and live forever and merfolk don’t,” he said at a pause in Edward’s reading. “I’ll admit I don’t know much about your human concept of souls, but…”

“I can’t imagine you wouldn’t have a soul,” Edward replied. “I rather don’t think Mr. Andersen ever met a real mermaid.”

Thomas chuckled. “No certainly, not. I’m sorry to interrupt, please continue.”

“He would give a soul to you and retain his own as well; but this can never happen. Your fish’s tail, which amongst us is considered so beautiful, is thought on earth to be quite ugly…” Edward stopped. “I hardly think that’s true. I may only know you, but your tail is quite lovely.”

Edward flushed a bright red as he realized what he’d said, but Thomas just laughed and splashed his tail in the water. “Thank you, I’m quite fond of it.”

Edward recovered himself enough to give a small chuckle and picked up once more. “They do not know any better, and they think it necessary to have two stout props, which they call legs, in order to be handsome.”

Then came the sea witch and the price, the little mermaid’s voice for legs, the constant agony of walking, never being a mermaid again; joining the prince on land, learning that he will marry and it would not be her; the ultimatum, kill the prince and return to life as a mermaid or die as the foam on the waves; the ending, entering the spirit world instead.

Thomas was quiet for a long time after Edward finished. “Do you think that all stories like that end so sadly?”

“Of… mermaids?” Edward wasn’t sure he followed what Thomas was thinking about.

“Of merfolk and humans. Aren’t there other stories, about selkies who can take a human form and sometimes wed humans? Do those end sadly too?”

“The ones I know do,” Edward admitted. “But they also tend to see the men stealing the poor selkie’s skin in order to keep her by force.”

“So not a good beginning either.” Thomas sat up. “There is truth to it, the changing I mean. I can’t say I speak for selkies, I’ve only met a few, but merfolk like myself… we… we can change, and we don’t need a sea witch to do it.”

“Have you ever?” Edward asked. An image of himself and Thomas walking arm in arm along the cliff edge above sprung unbidden to mind.

Thomas shook his head. “That’s the other true part of the story. We do only get one chance. We can choose to become human, but once we are there’s no going back. I’ve never known anyone who’s done it, but I’ve heard of it. I don’t know if any of them did it for the love of a human, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”

“It seems an awfully risky thing to base your choice on,” Edward said, though he also felt crushingly disappointed. He wondered privately what made selkies so different.

“It’s to do with our… I suppose you’d call it magic, but it’s just part of our nature,” Thomas began. “We can… it is intimacy, strong emotions that allows us to do such things.”

Edward swallowed, his mind flashing back to how Thomas had kissed him, how that had allowed Edward the ability to breath underwater for a time. “So is that how… when you…”

He felt a bit queasy as the implications of that sunk in. Thomas was… well he could hardly be called a _man_ , but he was undeniably male… it was hardly proper. It was…

Edward was startled out of his thoughts by Thomas’s hand on his knee and he immediately felt sheepish. What even was proper in a case like this? Thomas hadn’t seemed to have had any qualms about kissing him, and it had been so startling—and nice—at the time, and quickly eclipsed by the fact that he could _breathe underwater_ , it had barely seemed a thing to panic about.

“Ned? Ned, are you all right?”Thomas looked incredibly concerned.

“I… Yes… I believe so.” Edward had made a shameful sort of peace with his attraction toward men, taking pains to control himself on board a ship and going to a molly house only when he felt truly desperate.

He had been enamored with Thomas from the start, but it had been easy to brush that aside as curiosity and fascination. At least, it had been at first, but Thomas had quickly become someone Edward considered a friend, and now there was really no denying what those feelings had turned into.

Thomas was still frowning. “Are you _sure_? You haven’t been responding to half the things I’ve said.”

“I am sorry. I got caught up in my head I…” Edward took a deep breath to steady himself. “When you kissed me… was that? If you hadn’t felt… close… to me. Would it not have worked?”

Thomas watched Edward carefully, as though he were searching for something. “No, it wouldn’t have.” He said at last.

“So you knew it would work then, when you asked me to swim with you last year?”

Thomas ducked his head. “Yes… you were so sweet I—” He cut himself off abruptly. “You’re very kind, Ned. I meant it, when I called you my favorite human.”

There was a question burning in Edward’s chest that he desperately wanted to ask, but he also felt he might break apart if he didn’t get the answer he was hoping for. “Does it have to be a kiss?”

“No.” Thomas slowly raised his head to look at Edward again, eyes shining. “It can be any intimate gesture.” He smiled softly, with just a touch of mischief. “I certainly wouldn’t kiss the captain.”

Edward’s heart was beating so fast, he truly thought it might burst from his chest. He wanted to ask if Thomas would kiss him again, but the words were caught in his throat.

“The captain warned me,” Thomas continued. “That many men would be quite angry about such an advance, but you’re not one of those men are you?”

Edward shook his head, but then his mind caught up with him. “I… well it’s complicated. In certain company I would be forced to pretend… In _most_ company…”

“But not in my company,” Thomas said, and Edward was suddenly very aware of Thomas’s hand tracing up his thigh.

Thomas had gotten closer without Edward realizing as well. A few more movements and he’d be in Edward’s lap.

“No.” The word was barely audible and Edward barely had time to discard the book he was still holding before Thomas launched himself at Edward to kiss him, knocking them both to the sand.

It was a much fiercer kiss than the first and Edward could not help the groan that escaped him. His hands fluttered at Thomas’s sides, trying to remember if it was safe to touch him there.

He gently stroked a hand down Thomas’s side and Thomas broke their kiss with a breathy laugh. “I’m very ticklish there, but do be careful, those are my gills your hand is on.”

“Oh.” He jerked his hand away quickly.

Thomas leaned down to give Edward another light kiss. “I didn’t say stop, I just said be mindful.”

Thomas’s skin was surprisingly warm under Edward’s hand, and as he trailed his hand along Thomas’s side again, he made note of the indents where the gills were. He’d never noticed them before. He imagined they were likely hidden somewhat by Thomas’s stripes. Then Thomas shifted on top of him and a wave of pleasure rolled through his gut.

“Thomas…” Edward moaned.

Thomas nipped at Edward’s ear as one of his hands snaked between them to rub at Edward through his trousers. “I have better control of my spines underwater and I’d very much like to touch more of you,” he whispered.

Edward could not recall a time in his life when he had been so quick to divest himself of his clothes.

“I’d never ask you to change yourself to live on land with me,” Edward said, as he lay next to Thomas on the beach _much_ later—long after evening had become night, and after they’d both resurfaced, tired and happy and utterly sated.

Thomas smiled. “Thank you. I had thought about it, what I’d do if you asked me.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to give up on the hope of seeing my siblings one day.”

Edward reached out to stroke a thumb over Thomas’s cheek. “I’m sure you will. I’ll help you look if I can, keep my ear out for sailors’ stories. Can’t promise they’ll be in any way reliable…”

Thomas laughed. “Thank you, Ned. I do wish I could join you, but…”

“I understand,” Edward said softly. “I’ll be happy with whatever you can give me. And when I’m gone I’ll write and I’ll come back and visit, and when I retire I’ll find some quiet spot on the coast where no one will bother us.”

Thomas reached up to covered Edward’s hand with his own, letting it rest there for a moment before drawing Edward’s hand down to kiss his palm. “I like the sound of that.”

Edward smiled. He felt utterly besotted, which was not a feeling he was particularly familiar with. Maybe it _was_ easier to fall in love with mermaids, he thought. Or maybe it was easier to fall in love with someone who had no reservations about loving you back. If Thomas hadn’t been so forward Edward never would have known he wanted anything more than Edward’s company.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Thomas asked, releasing Edward’s hand to tap a claw gingerly against Edward’s forehead.

“I’m thinking about you,” Edward admitted. “How glad I am that you kissed me and made it very clear how much you wanted me.”

“I thought I was making it clear before,” Thomas admitted. “But I think things were being missed.”

Edward frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Thomas said. “It was trying to woo you like I might any other merperson. I didn’t think about how different the rules might be for humans. I was shocked when the captain told me how frowned upon two men being in love was. That it was a _crime_ , but even so men still find ways.”

“That’s true.” Edward paused. “How does Captain Crozier…? He’s… sympathetic to this?”

“Yes, he…” Thomas’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh… of course, I suppose he wouldn’t have told you… He and his James, the man he writes with.”

Edward’s brow furrowed as he tried to piece together what he knew of Captain Ross. “I thought Ross was married?”

Thomas shrugged a shoulder. “That has never seemed an issue for them. I think she knows, but I couldn’t say for certain. You could ask.”

“I don’t think that would be appropriate,” Edward said. “It really is a very sensitive thing.”

“I see.” Thomas hummed thoughtfully. “I think we ought to tell him about us. At the very least, he’ll know he doesn’t have to worry around you. Right?”

That was a good thought. “I’ll try to bring it up tonight.” ‘Try’ was the key word there; it would be a nerve-wracking thing to bring up.

Thomas beamed. “Good!”

They lay in silence for several long moments until Edward broke the silence. “I ought to head back to the house.”

“Hmm… Or you could sleep on the beach with me,” Thomas said.

“I could,” Edward began, “but would that be good for you? Wouldn’t your scales and skin dry out from so much time out of water?”

Thomas gave a long dramatic sigh. “Spoil my fantasy why don’t you.”

Edward chuckled. “I’m sorry.”

“I think I’ll survive if you promise to visit me again tomorrow,” Thomas said, and he ran his fingers down Edward’s arm in a way that made him shiver head to toe.

“I promise.”

Edward was about to say something else to further excuse himself, when a thought popped into his head. “What if there was a way to bring you up on land? Instead of doing things down here I could show you about on the cliff top. The view of the ocean is stunning from up there.”

Thomas shifted to prop his head up on his hand. “I don’t think it would be safe for you to try to carry me.”

“I wouldn’t be carrying you,” Edward said with a shake of his head. “Crozier has this tank, it’s not terribly big, but it would be big enough for you to sit in with some adjusting. We put that in the back of the cart and I could take you around wherever you wanted to go. Within reason I mean.”

Edward’s growing excitement was now reflected in Thomas’s eyes as well. “And how would you get the cart to me? The captain can’t get it down to this little beach because the path down the cliff is too narrow.”

“The jetty, where Crozier keeps his boat, there’s no real beach there, but the rocks should be low enough for you to climb up on.”

“Yes…” Thomas hummed softly. “I could likely do without the tank. Trying to climb into a cart and _then_ into a tank, even a relatively big one, seems a large task out of water, but if you just filled buckets with water I could keep myself wet just in the cart.”

Edward grinned. “I could put down a wet blanket too.”

“Should I meet you by the jetty tomorrow then?” Thomas asked.

“No, no, I don’t know if Crozier will need the cart for anything tomorrow. I’ll ask him about using it, and then we can set a day.”

Thomas dragged himself closer to Edward and caught his mouth in a long, slow kiss. “Don’t make me wait too long.”

Crozier looked terribly unimpressed when Edward asked if he might use the cart one evening to take Thomas around on land at breakfast the following morning. “It’s not an idea I can condone. We may be a good way from town, but people still come up to make deliveries.”

“We wouldn’t be coming anywhere near the house,” Edward assured him quickly. “We’d keep to the coastal areas. The only real plan was to show Thomas the view of the sea from the cliffs, maybe eat dinner up there.”

Crozier sighed, resting his hand around his tea cup, but not picking it up. “Just because I don’t like the idea doesn’t mean I’m going to stop you. Thomas is an adult and can make his own choices about his safety without me hovering over him; he knows the high traffic areas better than I do. I simply want to make sure you’re considering all possibilities.”

“Of course, I…” He thought back to Thomas’s suggestion to tell Crozier about them, and steeled himself even though he knew, ultimately, that Crozier would not react poorly. More than anything, he was worried about Crozier’s response as almost a father figure to Thomas.

Edward cleared his throat. “I love him, and the last thing I want is to see him come to any harm.”

There were several moments of horrible deafening silence that followed and Edward nearly got up and fled, but then Crozier spoke.

“That is… good to hear. I had wondered. I knew Thomas was rather fond of you, but I had worried what your reaction might be. I’m glad my worries were for nothing.”

Edward flushed. “He told me about you and Captain Ross.” It was, in part, a cheap shot to steer the conversation away from himself, and another part that he’d feel guilty about hiding that he knew.

“I’d assumed he’d told you something,” Crozier said, entirely unbothered. “But you know the meaning of discretion so I rather don’t think I have anything to worry about.”

“No, not at all.” Edward paused a moment. He took a sip of his own tea to find that it had gone quite cold and he set it back down. “Maybe men like us are the best suited to studying mythical creatures. We know why some things, no matter how wonderful and exciting, should stay a secret.”

“That is an interesting thought,” Crozier said. “But I think I’ve seen enough of men’s natures that even a man of our sort would be just as willing to sell out someone else for a different sort of secret if he thought he might profit.”

“Thomas mentioned you fired your last assistant because he was prying where he shouldn’t.” Edward had no idea if the man fit in what they’d been discussing, but it had been the first thing that popped into his head at Crozier’s words.

Crozier let out a protracted sigh. “E— C—. I never should have hired that man, but I was in a bad place, frequently drunk and looking to lighten my own workload. I put an ad in the paper and he was the first to apply.” He shook his head. “But enough depressing reminiscing, that was several years ago at this point. If you think you can be safe, by all means take the cart out. I won’t be heading into town until Friday.”

The first several minutes after Edward arrived down at the jetty to meet Thomas were spent with Thomas entirely occupied in fawning over Betsy, which Edward found terribly amusing.

“Don’t laugh,” Thomas said, though his tone made it clear he wasn’t upset with Edward. “I’ve just never seen a horse up close before.”

“Betsy’s actually a mule,” Edward replied, stroking along Betsy’s neck. “So, her mother was a horse and her father was a donkey.”

Thomas brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Interesting… Could I touch her?”

“Of course.” Edward carefully led the cart closer to the water’s edge. “Let her smell you first, but she’s very gentle. She may mouth at your hand, but she won’t bite.”

Thomas nodded and extended a hand, letting Betsy examine him before he carefully stroked up her muzzle. “Oh, she’s soft. I hadn’t expected that.”

Edward grinned. “How does she compare to other land animals you’ve met?”

“She’s a good deal bigger,” Thomas said. He stroked Betsy’s muzzle a few more times before dropping his hand and Betsy immediately went about whuffling at Thomas’s head, looking for more attention.

Thomas laughed and ducked away. “Careful girl.”

“Maybe we should get you up before she decides your back spines look like hay,” Edward said, starting to pull Betsy back so he could reposition the cart.

“Yes.” Thomas began pulling himself more fully on the water. “That would put a bit of a damper on the evening.”

Getting Thomas into the cart was a touch more difficult than Edward had anticipated. Thomas was strong, but the angle was an awkward one, and despite Thomas insisting he did not want Edward’s help, he ended up needing it anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Edward tried, once Thomas was settled in the bed of the cart, but Thomas just shook his head.

“I just didn’t want you getting hurt. It doesn’t take much for my venom to be fatal to humans.” He’d reached out to stroke Edward’s cheek. “I worry. You humans are much more fragile than you think.” 

“I think our cleverness makes up for some of that,” Edward said, catching Thomas’s hand before he could pull away. He pressed a kiss to Thomas’s knuckles before stepping back to climb up in front to take the reins. “Let me know when you’re comfortable and secure.”

Edward didn’t want to start moving until Thomas was ready. The going would be bumpy as the cart wasn’t necessarily made with passengers in mind, though Edward had tried to pad it for Thomas as best he could along with the wet blanket and buckets of water.

After a few moments of rustling and soft huffing Thomas declared himself ready and Edward turned back to see that Thomas had wriggled the wet blanket out from underneath him to wrap around his tail and had piled up two of the extra blankets Edward had brought to create a cushion to lean against the cart’s low rail.

Satisfied that Thomas was safe Edward got Betsy moving forward.

“Is this a normal way to travel?” Thomas asked after a few minutes.

“It’s one way,” Edward said. “Though carts like this ones are usually used for transporting goods, not people. There are proper carriages with cushioned seats that are much more comfortable.”

“I see.”

There was further shuffling behind him, but Edward didn’t turn to look until there was a thud against the back of the driver’s seat and a hand tugging on the back of his jacket.

“What on earth are you doing?” Edward asked, and he nearly brought Betsy to a halt.

Thomas huffed. “I wanted to see if I could get up there next to you, but I was halfway through my plan when I realized that I might fall off if we went over a bump. I couldn’t use my tail to secure myself like you can with your legs.”

Edward turned back to the path in front of them again. “Maybe we can try getting you up here once we’ve stopped.”

“Maybe,” Thomas murmured. “But it’s not really necessary. I’d rather just enjoy our time up here. Did you bring the book? Would you read me another story?”

“I did, it’s in the basket with our dinner.”

“Am I allowed to peek at what’s for dinner?” Thomas asked.

Edward laughed. “As long as you wait to sample it.”

They stopped at the part of the cliff’s edge that overlooked Thomas’s sheltered cove and Edward helped Thomas down from the cart to sit on the grass while he repositioned the cart to shield them from view on the off chance that anyone came by. Then Edward spread out the picnic he had prepared for them, and it was a delight to see Thomas’s curiosity about everything he’d brought.

It was a relatively simple meal by Edward’s standards—he’d made them sandwiches of butter, sliced beef, cheese, and brewed some tea that he hoped had stayed somewhat warm in their bottles. Crozier had even allowed Edward the use of his good tea. “James keeps sending it,” he’d muttered, “and he knows damn well I don’t drink it that fast.”

Still what was common fare to Edward would be new and exciting to Thomas, and he answered all of Thomas’s questions as they came.

“What kind of animal does beef come from?” Thomas asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Cows,” Edward said. “Have you ever seen one?”

Thomas shook his head, mouth too full to respond.

“I’ll draw one for you.”

“Now?” Thomas asked.

Edward laughed and shook his head. “I’ll bring you a drawing tomorrow. I have nothing with me to draw with.”

Thomas nodded seriously. “Very well. I’ll expect your very best cow, then. Since you’ll have more time.”

Edward snorted, nearly choking on his food as he’d taken a rather inopportune bite after speaking.

Thomas’s lip twitched as he fought to hold back a laugh of his own. “Do the butter and cheese come from cows too?”

Edward swallowed and cleared his throat. “Yes, actually, though both can really be made from any animal that produces milk.”

That made Thomas pause, and Edward grew worried he’d said something wrong, even though he had no idea what it could be.

“Could you…” Thomas started, but then stopped again. “If I brought you whale milk… could you make cheese out of it.”

Edward’s eyes widened. “Whales produce… milk?”

Thomas nodded. “Yes, they nurse their young just the way seals do. Well, not the exact same way, but they do.”

Edward was still a bit flabbergasted. “I… yes… I suppose you could make whale cheese then. I don’t know what sort of cheese maker would be willing to try it, but in theory it would be possible.” 

Thomas hummed and took another bite. “It’s good.”

They ate in silence until Thomas began examining the fruit Edward had brought. He’d done nothing to it, just purchased some fresh strawberries from the market, but he’d thought Thomas ought to taste strawberries fresh to see if he actually liked them, since it had only been the jam he’d deemed too sweet.

“These are strawberries?” Thomas asked, lifting a fruit carefully between two fingers.

Edward nodded. “Have you had them before?” He hadn’t quite expected that, but he supposed if Crozier had been bringing Thomas the occasional gift of human food he may have, but then Thomas shook his head.

“No, but the captain did show me pictures of several fruits. I wanted to know what sorts of fruits were going into the pastries he’d bring me.” He took a small bite. “Oh, it’s not as sweet as I thought it would be.”

“Jams can be very sweet,” Edward said. “A lot of extra sugar goes into jam. Many fruits can be quite tart, like blackberries and lemons.”

“I think I like fruit best with no sugar,” Thomas said, and then popped the rest of the fruit into his mouth before Edward could tell him that you weren’t supposed to eat the top.

But Thomas didn’t seem bothered by it, and Edward reminded himself that Thomas ate plenty of things that Edward didn’t find palatable or simply couldn’t eat.

Edward picked up a strawberry of his own. “Well, we’ll just have to get all sort of fruits for you to try then. What next?”

“Raspberries,” Thomas said. “The captain got me a little… _tart_ once and the top was completely covered in candied raspberries.”

Edward smiled. “Raspberries it is then.”

It was properly dark outside when Thomas decided that he ought to head back to the water. Edward panicked a moment, misinterpreting Thomas’s statement to mean he needed to get back in the water _immediately_ , and quickly offered to carry him down to the cove.

Thomas laughed softly and reached out to cup Edward’s face so he couldn’t get up. “I’m all right Edward. I’ll be perfectly fine for the ride back to the jetty. I’m in no danger.”

Edward flushed, embarrassment settling heavy in his stomach. “I’m sorry.”

Thomas just shook his head. “There’s no need.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Edward’s mouth. “You’ve done nothing wrong, but if you’re really worried you could run down and refill one of the buckets.”

“Would you be all right up here alone?” For his part, Edward did notfind himself particularly inclined to leave Thomas alone on land, where he could not escape.

Thomas seemed to be having similar thoughts, because his brow furrowed and an unsettled look crept across his face.

Before Edward had a chance to respond there was a sudden rustling in some bushes behind them and two birds flew out, startling them both.

“I think it’s unnecessary,” Thomas said. “But I would like to get back.”

Edward nodded, pulling away from Thomas in order to get up to bring the cart closer.

They didn’t speak much as Edward carefully helped Thomas back into the cart again and then turned them back toward the jetty.

“Do you think we were seen?” Thomas asked quietly after several moments of quiet travel.

Edward frowned. He wanted to look back to Thomas, but he kept his eyes forward. “Are you thinking about the noise in the bushes?” he asked.

A beat. “Yes.”

“I don’t think so.” It was a worry, certainly, but Edward imagined that a person would have made much more noise. “There are plenty of nocturnal creatures on land too. There’s a family of pine marten’s living in our barn and they make an awful racket at night sometimes. I imagine they’d be enough to spook some birds.”

“Oh, of course.” Thomas sighed. “I feel a bit foolish for worrying now.”

Edward shook his head. “It’s a valid concern.”

“Yes, but there’s no reason for anyone to be snooping about out here this late,” Thomas said. “There’s very little of interest out here to anyone save fishermen and the captain.”

“Don’t forget me,” Edward teased, and he was pleased to hear Thomas laugh behind him. 

“I was talking about people who were interested in things _other_ than me,” Thomas said. “No one knows about me save for you and the captain, so there’s no reason for anyone else to be out looking for me.”

Edward overslept by hours the following morning, having finally arrived home well past midnight after he and Thomas had gotten caught up talking for longer than they’d intended when they finally arrived at the jetty.

It was worth it though, Edward thought. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of spending time with Thomas.

There was a note waiting for him on the kitchen table from Crozier when he finally made his way downstairs. He was out in his fishing boat, presumably doing something with Thomas, if Thomas was still awake at any rate. He’d also included a note reminding Edward to please clear out the basket he’d used for his and Thomas’s picnic as Crozier would need that for when he went into town the following day.

There was more than just the basket that needed cleaning up from the night before; the blankets would need to be washed and the buckets put away in their proper place. Those would be his tasks for the day once he’d had breakfast.

He was halfway through his second piece of buttered toast, when there was a loud knock on the front door. Edward frowned. He wasn’t expecting anyone (he had yet to receive a reply from George, who was usually quite diligent about his correspondence), and he was fairly certain Crozier wasn’t either, or he wouldn’t have gone out.

Brushing the crumbs off his fingers, Edward got to his feet and made his way to the front hall. The knocking came again just as he reached for the door handle.

He pulled open the door with perhaps more force than necessary, prepared to be rather irritated, only to be met with the grinning face of George Hodgson.

“Edward!”

“George… I…”

George’s smile faltered for just a moment. “Have I arrived before my letter?”

“I… yes, I was hardly expecting anyone today,” Edward admitted, taking a step back. “Come in.”

George tutted. “I knew I should have sent a telegram when I arrived in Dublin.”

“It wouldn’t have done any good,” Edward said. “The telegraph device at the post office is broken.” He had asked about it when his sister had mentioned she’d sent him one, and had been told that a new device was “on its way.” That had been in February.

“Oh that is unfortunate. Well, you didn’t miss much from my letter. It was a very simple ‘I expect to arrive, blah blah, looking forward to hearing what you’ve learned about Captain Crozier’s research.”

“So only about four pages then,” Edward said, and George cackled and clapped Edward on the shoulder.

“It’s good to see you Edward, and I’m very glad you caught me when you did. I was about to accept a posting under a captain I was rather unsure of, man didn’t seem particularly competent, so you’ve rather spared me what I was beginning to fear might be an absolutely miserable commission.”

Edward shook his head. “You confound me, George. I hardly meant to keep you from a posting.”

George waved him off, dropping his bag to the floor with a thunk. “As I said, I was already bothered by the captain, and more importantly, you told me you had information about _mermaids_ , Edward. I couldn’t just pass it up.”

“Did you tell your brother?” Edward asked, suddenly regretting not stressing secrecy more in his letter.

It was a great relief when George shook his head. “Your letter was very particular in avoiding explicit mention of the matter, so I thought I’d best keep it hush hush ’til I spoke to you. Was that the correct assumption?”

Edward nodded. “Yes, it’s… Crozier’s stopped his research, for good reason mind you, but what remains is… very delicate.”

“I see…”

“Come join me in the kitchen so I can finish my breakfast and then I’ll show you to the guest bedroom,” Edward said, cutting George off before they spent anymore time chatting in the middle of the front hall.

George retrieved his bag from the floor. “Breakfast? It’s nearly eleven.”

“I had a late night.” The question was how much to reveal to George right away. Edward supposed it would be best to start the same way Crozier had with him; the reasons why letting the world know about mermaids was a bad idea.

George nodded as Edward led him to the kitchen. “Is Captain Crozier about?”

“No, he’s out on his boat. He’s still doing research on mollusks, as I mentioned in my letter, it’s only the mermaid research he’s stopped,” Edward said. “He realized that the public learning about the existence of mermaids might do more harm than good. Hunting mermaids would become the next great trend.”

George hummed. “I suppose that’s true isn’t it. We’ve seen full well the kind of fervor that can be whipped up over a fake. I shall keep mum about what I learn here then.”

“Thank you.” There was more that needed to be said, but for now Edward busied himself getting a second cup out for George to pour him some tea.

Once they were both seated, Edward let out a long sigh. “I’m not sure where to begin.”

“I’ll ask questions and you answer them,” George said, taking a sip of tea and grimacing when the cold and over-steeped liquid hit his tongue.

“Very well.” It certainly would be the easiest way. If Edward had known George was coming he would have put more thought into what he might say.

George set down his tea cup. “Is the paper genuine?”

“Yes, as genuine as it can be when working on mostly speculation,” Edward said.

George hummed. “And does the specimen, or its parts, still exist?”

“No.” They had gone the way of the drafts of Crozier’s second paper. Incinerated.

“So what _new_ did you want to show me?” George crossed his arms on the table. “I know you. You wouldn’t have invited me here if there wasn’t something worth seeing.”

“A merman, living off the coast.” George was, for once, stunned silent, so Edward kept speaking. “His name is Thomas. He can speak, unlike what Captain Crozier speculated about the other mermaid. He’s been helping Crozier collect specimens, of shell fish I mean, not…”

Edward swallowed, watching George who appeared torn between disbelief and barely concealed glee.

“Can I… can I see him?”

“This evening.” Edward was finally starting to feel like he could relax about this whole endeavor, and he was horribly glad that he had not misjudged George. “He’s mostly nocturnal,” he clarified.

George swiped Edward’s last piece of toast, leaving him with only the half eaten piece. “Fascinating, I suppose that makes sense. Is he… of Crozier’s _Siren lamia_ , species?”

Edward sighed. “No. He’s ah… _Siren venefica_.”

“He’s venomous?” George asked around a mouthful of toast.

“Very,” Edward clarified. “I haven’t seen it in action, mind you, but he’s said it’s quite deadly.”

“The _merman_ has said.”

The disbelief in George’s voice made something fiercely protective rear in his chest. “Thomas, yes.”

George hummed and shoved the remainder of Edward’s toast into his mouth. “And you believe him?”

“He’s given me no reason to suspect him of falsehood,” Edward said. “In fact the matter’s only come up in regard to my safety.”

George gave Edward a curious look. “You make him sound almost human.”

“He’s intelligent enough to be.” Sometimes, when they were talking, Edward would forget he wasn’t; at least, until Edward made some reference that Thomas didn’t understand or Thomas said something so obviously inhuman.

Thomas’s understanding of love between two men or two women as _natural_ was something Edward found endlessly fascinating. That humans (and merfolk) were not the only creatures such desires occurred in. Edward had listened, rapt, when Thomas had told him that it was not uncommon to see two male penguins mate for life.

“Edward? Hello?” George waved a hand in Edward’s face and he jerked back, upsetting his teacup onto his plate and soaking his unfinished breakfast.

Edward huffed. “I’m sorry. I got lost in thought. Did you ask something?”

“I asked if your merman had told you anything else of interest,” George repeated.

“He mentioned selkies as if they were distinct from the sort of merfolk he is,” Edward replied, righting his teacup. “But it’s not something we’ve had an in depth conversation about.”

“And what sort is he?” George asked, leaning in incrementally. “You gave me a species name, but what does he look like?”

Edward worried his lip a moment. “Have you ever seen a lionfish?”

When Crozier returned to the house that evening, he came with the disappointing news that Thomas would be away for the next few days. He’d received a message from a friend that could perhaps have to do with one of his siblings.

“Is this area known for having a lot of mermaid sightings?” George asked Crozier, after Crozier had given him _his_ version of the ‘it is terribly important that this remains a secret’ talk. (It was a good deal more menacing than Edward’s had been.)

“Not particularly,” Crozier said. “I discovered the first mermaid when I was still living in England and Thomas isn’t from this area at all. It wouldn’t surprise me if there were sightings over the years, since here often are sightings in coastal towns like this one, but I’ve not heard anything from the townsfolk and they’re all well aware of my reputation for the most part.”

“I see,” George trailed off.

“Is something the matter?” Crozier asked, suddenly seeming rather agitated and Edward found himself echoing the sentiment.

“Nothing really, only there’s a carnival being set up in a field on the other side of town. I noticed it when I got off the train,” George paused again. “They were advertising a ‘local mermaid’ as part of their sideshow.”

Crozier swore. “Were there any images in the advertisement?”

“Yes,” George reached into his pocket and procured a crumpled flyer. “But it doesn’t look anything like your man. I presumed it was a gimmick like any other.”

The flyer did appear to be a very standard advertisement for a sideshow. The drawing of the mermaid was about as nondescript as they came; female, long hair, a human top half, a fishy bottom half. It certainly looked nothing like Thomas.

Edward turned to Crozier to make a comment about horrible coincidences, but Crozier still seemed deeply troubled.

“Might I hold on to this?” he asked George.

“Of course, I have no need for it. I must say, I’d rather spend my time here getting to know an actual mermaid than seeing whatever fake one this carnival claims to be showing.”

Crozier frowned. “Yes. I’ll look into this more thoroughly when I go into town tomorrow regardless. Learning more about the matter certainly won’t hurt.” He gave a long exasperated sigh. “Perhaps I can leverage my reputation to get a look at their supposed specimen before they open to the public.”

“You don’t really think it has to do with Thomas, do you?” Edward asked Crozier later that evening after George had retired, dramatically claiming travel exhaustion.

Crozier shook his head, slumping down in his armchair. “I don’t know, Edward. The timing is suspicious, but there’s also simply no way that anyone could have seen you and Thomas last night and had fliers printed by this morning. If this has anything to do with Thomas, it’s been planned for much longer.”

“We should likely not do any more excursions on land until we’ve settled this, just in case.” Edward imagined that Thomas would agree, particularly after how spooked they’d been by a couple of birds.

“A wise idea,” Crozier said, nodding.

Edward worried his hands together. “Do you have any idea when Thomas will be back?”

“He said he wouldn’t be gone more than a few days, but I don’t have anything more specific.”

Edward tried not to think about how much that bothered him. He could hardly fault Thomas for wanting to go and look for his family, but it was not knowing where he was or what might happen that was upsetting. Was this how Edward’s sisters felt every time he set sail? How sailors’ wives felt?

“He’ll be back before you know it, and he did say he’d leave us a sign on the beach when he returned so we weren’t left guessing,” Crozier said, having clearly picked up on something of Edward’s anxieties.

That did help somewhat, though not as much as Edward would have liked. He felt rather ashamed for feeling so possessive of Thomas. Thomas was his own person, and highly capable, but Edward had gotten so used to Thomas always being there and he found it surprisingly unsettling to be pulled apart so suddenly even if it was temporary.

Edward startled to feel Crozier’s hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t noticed the man get up.

“That you worry only means you care about him,” Crozier said, kindly. “And you certainly can’t be faulted for that.”

Crozier’s trip into town the following day did not bring the news they’d hoped. Instead of finding confirmation of a hoax mermaid, Crozier had instead heard the barker (a tall gaunt man, who Crozier likened to a walking corpse) advertising a _live specimen_ that would be viewable when the carnival opened the following week. Even more unsettling was that Crozier had seen E— C— in town, and while he had no proof that E— C— was behind the carnival, he thought it likely.

Edward had spent the next two days positively nauseous with concern for Thomas until he and George went down to the cove one morning to find the word “HOME” spelled out in mussel shells on the beach.

“You didn’t tell me he could read and write,” George muttered as Edward set about picking up the shells. Not wanting to leave the evidence in case someone _was_ snooping about.

“I’ve been helping him learn,” Edward said, tossing a shell into the water and hoping that Thomas would be awake and around to notice. It was early enough to think he might be, as it was the hour he and Crozier had used to go down to collect the specimens Thomas hauled up.

George picked up a handful of shells himself, but pocketed them rather than throwing them into the water. “If I were the kind of skeptical you were when we first met, I would accuse you of making a monkey out of me. All these days I’ve been here with the promise of-”

“Shush, George look.” A ways off the tops of Thomas’s spines were just visible out of the water. Edward waved, hoping to signal that it was safe to come to shore.

“What are you seeing?” George asked, squinting out over the water.

Not a moment later Thomas’s head emerged from the water and in a matter of moments he was at the shore and George fell silent, mouth agape.

“Is this your friend, Ned?” Thomas’s eyes flicked uneasily from George to Edward.

Edward nodded. “Yes. George, this is Thomas; Thomas, George Hodgson. We met as midshipmen and I’ve been unable to get rid of him since.”

“He says that like I’m some barnacle that he can’t scrape off his hull,” George said, having collected his wits enough to address Thomas.“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’d say Edward’s told me all about you, but frankly getting more than the most mundane of details about you has been a bit like pulling teeth.”

He leaned down to offer a hand to Thomas, then hesitated, but Thomas reached out to meet him before he could pull back.

“I know what a handshake is, don’t worry.”

George grinned, giving Thomas’s hand a firm shake. “Excellent. You know, I rather thought Edward was exaggerating when he was talking about how clever you are.”

Thomas gave a sharp grin of his own. “I think many animals are rather more intelligent than humans give them credit for.”

“Consider my horizons broadened,” George said. “I think the world at large doesn’t have a very well rounded idea of what mermaids are like. With good reason, of course,” he added quickly.

“Speaking of that,” Edward began, “something’s happened in town.”

Thomas’s expression shifted immediately from mild amusement to terror in an instant. “Did someone see us?”

Edward shook his head. “No, no, nothing that bad, but someone, Crozier’s old assistant, E— C—, the one he fired, is now running a carnival nearby and advertising a live mermaid in their sideshow.”

Thomas grew quiet and slid further down into the surf. “Is it true?”

“I can’t imagine it is,” George said. “I haven’t seen anything in any paper. Something like that would have resulted in an uproar in more than just the scientific communities, the public would be clamoring to see it. People would be lining up from around the country, around the world.” He huffed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s more likely that their ‘live mermaid’ is a woman with a skin condition that they’ve dressed up. I saw a show that featured a young man billed as ‘the lizard boy’ that used a gimmick like that.” 

Thomas still looked worried, but he nodded.

Edward knelt down in the water to be at a level with Thomas and reached out to take his hand. “We’re looking into it, so try not to worry too much. We _will_ get to the bottom of this, but until then just be careful all right?”

“Yes.” Thomas squeezed Edward’s hand. “You’ll still come see me though, won’t you?”

“Of course.” Edward fought the urge to press a kiss to the back of Thomas’s hand, but he simply didn’t know how George might react to that. “Should we let you sleep now?”

Thomas shook his head. “Stay a bit longer? You stay up late for me so often, it’s about time I returned the favor.”

It didn’t take much to see that Thomas was shaken by what they had discovered, and Edward did not blame him for not wanting to be alone.

They spent the rest of the morning talking, mostly led by George who wanted to know absolutely everything about life under the sea. Thomas warmed up to him fairly quickly after it became clear that, despite George’s occasional tactless blunders, he was more over enthusiastically curious than anything else.

“I’m sure you’ve found some incredible things on the ocean floor. Discovered the wrecks of long lost ships.” George gave a romantic sigh. “It must be terribly exciting.” 

“Has Ned told you about the captain’s new discovery?” Thomas asked.

“It’s really _your_ discovery,” Edward said, nudging Thomas’s shoulder gently. “But, no I haven’t. Crozier wanted to keep it quiet until he and Ross made the announcement at the Royal Society.” 

George frowned. “I take it this doesn’t have to do with mermaids if he’s making an announcement about it.”

“No,” Thomas said. “He… or well, _I_ brought him some new specimens I found on a whale skeleton, and it turns out it was a kind of clam that had never been seen by humans before. I’ll admit it was my first time seeing them as well, but I doubt I was truly the first. He’s named it _My-ri-na rossii_.”

“He didn’t name it after you?” George asked, a touch scandalized.

Thomas laughed. “He did ask, but I declined. I thought it would raise too many questions, should anyone ask who he named it for. I’m not exactly a proper assistant, but I don’t mind. I’m not looking for any scientific acclaim.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose that does make sense, that your remaining a secret would take primary importance… though it is rather a shame your contributions won’t be recognized.”

Thomas shook his head lightly. “It’s satisfying enough to know I can help the captain after all he’s done for me.”

After that meeting, it was mutually decided by Thomas and Edward that they ought to start meeting later at night, at least until this all died down—and Edward was certain it would, and that Thomas shouldn’t emerge from the water until he knew it was Edward, Crozier or George at the beach.

After Crozier’s attempts at getting an early look at the carnival’s supposed “live specimen” failed, George offered his skills, since he was a relative unknown figure in town, as opposed to Crozier or Edward, and it might look less odd for him to ask pointed questions as a newcomer.

Unfortunately, not much came of that either.

“All I learned was that the barker’s name is Billy Gibson, and he referred to the carnival owner as ‘Mr. Hickey’ and said that he would make no early showing even to ‘enthusiasts such as myself.’” George said, draping his overcoat on the back of a chair before dropping into the seat.

Crozier snorted from his place at the other side of the table. “I would think it not unlikely that ‘Mr. Hickey’ is the same person as E— C—.” Then he sighed. “But a fat lot of good that does us except remind us of what we already know.”

Edward worried his lip. The name Hickey sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it for the life of him. “Are we sure that E— C— didn’t take anything before you caught him snooping?”

“I don’t _think_ he did.” Crozier sighed. “I wish I could give you a better answer than that, I was drinking rather heavily at the time and I’m afraid my memories of those days are rather foggy. Did you notice anything when you were organizing them?”

“Nothing appeared out of place to me,”Edward said. “But you’d be more familiar with them than me regardless.”

George drummed his fingers on the table, drawing Edward’s attention. “Might it be advisable to have Thomas leave for a while?”

Edward wanted to interject and say that was unnecessary, that while this likely had something to do with Crozier and his research, there was nothing connecting it to Thomas. However, there was sense to what George said. Thomas could be put in danger regardless, and Edward’s selfish desire to keep him close would only endanger him further.

“There’s nothing forcing him to stay here, except that he enjoys it and he has friends here. He could take easily take a vacation for the next week or so until the carnival moves on,” George continued. “I obviously don’t know him like the two of you do, but…”

“But it’s not a bad idea,” Crozier said.

Edward nodded in agreement, though he didn’t quite trust himself to voice his own opinion on the matter. “I’ll tell him when we go down to see him tonight.”

Edward and George were preparing to leave the house later that evening when an unearthly wail split the air, and Edward did not think twice before sprinting toward the cove, not bothering to see if George was following behind him.

The beach was empty when he arrived, no sign of Thomas, but that wasn’t necessarily cause for concern given Edward had told him to stay submerged. Edward picked up a stone and threw it into the water, not knowing what else to do.

Then he saw something out in the water being drawn into shore by the waves… a body, a _human_ body.

“Good Christ.”

Edward whirled around to see Crozier and George standing behind him, Crozier with his pistol and George holding Crozier’s hunting rifle.

“Do we know who that is?” George asked.

Edward shook his head. “He’s too far out to tell.” He hesitated just a moment before kicking off his boots and rolling up his trousers. “I’ll bring him in.” 

“Are you sure thats…” George began, but Edward was already wading into the water.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to go far, once the waves had done an effective job of bringing the body closer. He didn’t recognize the man as he hauled him to shore, but apparently George did, because when Edward dropped the dead man on his back on the sand, he let out a sharp gasp.

“It’s the barker, Gibson.”George said, prodding the body with his foot.

Edward couldn’t say he recalled ever having seen the man, but Crozier seemed to recognize him as well. Gibson had been killed brutally; there were gouge wounds down his chest, and the side of his throat had been completely torn out. It was too dark to see much detail, but Edward would bet anything that there would be teeth marks on thewound.

“Where would they go?” Edward asked. There was no way they could have carted him off, so they had to have come by boat.

Crozier shook his head. “I don’t know. The jetty to the north is closer, but there’s no guarantee they know it’s there.”

“How close are the town’s docks to the field where the carnival is set up?” George asked.

“Closer than the jetty,” Crozier said, “But they’d be risking bringing him very close to town.”

“We don’t have time for debate,” Edward snapped. “We have to-”

He was cut off by another scream, one that ended abruptly in a way that made Edward’s blood run cold.

Crozier swore. “That came from the jetty.”

They were barely halfway to the jetty when the cart came into view. It was being driven by a man Edward didn’t recognize, but he _did_ recognize the man who stood in the back, leveling a pistol downward at Thomas. It was the man he’d asked to drop off his letters at the post office… the man who had introduced himself as Cornelius Hickey.

Edward froze in his tracks even as Crozier surged forward gun drawn and George trailed not far behind.

“Mr. Little!” Hickey crowed as Edward finally reached the cart, which had been drawn to a halt. “So nice of you to join us, since I really do have you to thank for all of this. If it hadn’t been for your letter, I never would have known what to look for.”

The silence was deafening as all eyes turned to Edward.

“You’re lying.” He cursed himself for how shaky his voice came out. “That letter wasn’t for your eyes.”

Crozier was staring daggers at him, while George just looked confused. Edward couldn’t see the look on Thomas’s face, but he could imagine the hurt and betrayal.

“When I was in town to run errands and put out a batch of mail, I passed to mail off to someone who was already on their way to the post office so I could make it to the final shop before it closed,” Edward said, every word tightening the knot in his stomach. “I didn’t know who he was, and had no reason to think he would open someone else’s mail.”

“Can’t fault you for that,” Crozier said, but Edward felt he rather could. He hadn’t even _needed_ to go to the stationary shop, he’d just wanted to get a gift for Thomas. If he’d waited a single day to do that, all of this might have been avoided.

“And would you also be the reason my letter to Edward didn’t make it?” George asked, and Edward noted that his hand was fidgeting on the rifle in a way that made Edward think that if he had a choice it would be leveled at Hickey.

But Hickey’s gun was still pointed at Thomas, who, now that Edward was closer, he could see through the wooden bars on the sides. His arms were bound in front of him and his tail was twisted back and bound at a painful angle.

Hickey grinned. “Astute observation Mr. Hodgson! Thanks to the bungled work of one of my compatriots, it unfortunately wound up too damaged to send on to its intended recipient.”

With Hickey’s attention on George, Edward tried to duck around the cart to get behind Hickey, but Hickey’s attention was dragged back to him when the man at the reins caught his attention.

“I wouldn’t try to come any closer if I were you,” Hickey warned, making a show of cocking the pistol. “I was hoping to display a live mermaid, but a dead one will bring in just as much money, and I’ll still have people lining up to purchase him for study afterward.”

Fear for Thomas was thrumming through him, but Edward did not miss how unnaturally Hickey handled his pistol. This was not a man accustomed to using a gun.

George must have noticed this as well, because while Hickey was holding the gun up, he fired at one of the back wheels of the cart, shattering it and causing the cart to pitch.

Several things happened then in very quick succession. First, Hickey was knocked forward, dropping the pistol, which allowed Thomas the freedom to lever his arms to gouge one of his arm spines into Hickey’s leg before shoving back and trying to push himself off the cart. That same moment saw Edward bolting toward the back of the cart with a mind to pull Thomas out and away from Hickey; and, just as he reached the back of cart, Hickey reared back his leg and kicked Thomas hard, knocking him out of the open back of the cart and directly into Edward, the spines along Thomas’s back digging into Edward’s chest as they were both knocked to the ground.

The first pain that Edward registered was the pain of being stabbed, and, for a moment, he wondered if Thomas _had_ been lying about the venom, because it didn’t hurt as much as he expected to. Then he was jarred byThomas scrambling to get off him, and that was when he felt the burning start. It washed over him in a wave, pain radiating out everywhere from the wounds in his chest.

He tried to force himself through it, to sit up, to take stock of the situation, to make sure that Thomas was unhurt… Edward made it up on one elbow before another wave of pain rolled through him, making his head spin and he collapsed back on to the ground. Beside him, he could see George cutting through Thomas’s bindings with a knife.

“Let me take him! I can help him,” Thomas was saying. “He doesn’t have much time.” 

“Hickey’s still putting up a fight…” George began. “Won’t Edward…”

Thomas shook his head. “I swiped HIckey quickly with one spine in the leg. Ned took four to the chest and I couldn’t…” He choked. “I couldn’t get off him that fast. Please, there is no time, if he dies on land there is nothing I can do.”

Edward tried to say something, say anything, but the pain was roaring now and all that came out was a pained groan.

George looked stricken. “What do you need?” 

“Get him to the water, the jetty, as fast as you can.”

“We can’t take you with us,” Crozier’s voice came from behind Edward, but he couldn’t take his mind off the pain long enough to turn.

“If you get me to the cliff’s edge I’ll be all right diving over.” He paused. “And give me Hickey. I can take care of his body.”

Edward could not recall exactly how long it took to get to the jetty. He remembered being hoisted onto the horse, which had at some point been uncoupled from the cart, and he remembered having a vague thought about what had happened to man driving the cart, and then it was overwhelming pain until he felt himself being lowered into the shallow water off the rocky beach next to the jetty. The water, though cool, gave no relief to burning pain running through his limbs and torso.

“Ned, Ned can you hear me?” Thomas’s damp hand gently tilted his head so that Edward could see him.

Edward tried to nod, but it made his head spin and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“No, no, no, Ned, look at me please.” Thomas sounded choked, like he was crying, and it was all Edward could do to force his eyes back open.

His sight was blurred through his own tears of pain, but he tried to reach for Thomas, just to touch him, hold him. If this was going to kill him, he wanted to be as close to Thomas as he could.

Thomas caught his hand. “Do you trust me, Ned.”

“Yes,” Edward croaked, and it was as much a surprise to him as to anyone that the word actually came out.

“Take a deep breath,” Thomas said.

It was a struggle to do so, but Edward managed it somewhat and then, before he had much of a chance to think on what would come next, he was pulled underwater.

The last thing he felt before everything went black was Thomas’s lips on his.

Edward woke feeling warm and soothed, but for a persistent ache in his chest. He wondered briefly, if he’d slept wrong somehow.

Then his memories of last night—had it been last night?— resurfaced with a vengeance and he sat up with a gasp only to choke on water. He panicked, trying to gasp for breath to no avail until suddenly there was a hand clamped over his mouth and nose and suddenly, _strangely_ , he could breathe again.

“Breathe, Ned. Relax and breathe.”

Thomas’s voice filtered through the fog in his head and Edward slowly became more aware of his surroundings. He was underwater, Thomas was here, he was safe… the danger of Hickey seemed past.

As his breathing leveled out, Thomas withdrew his hand.

“What happened?” Edward asked. He started taking in his surroundings properly now. He was in Thomas’s cave, the soft glow of the plankton—and Thomas—was casting everything in a soft blue light that felt surprisingly soothing.

He brought his gaze back around to Thomas, who was hovering over him. His face was a picture of distress. “What happened?” Edward repeated.

Thomas swallowed. “You died. I- I saved you the only way I knew how.”

Frowning, Edward reached out to stroke Thomas’s cheek, to comfort him, to assure him that he was fine, but then stopped short. His hand was now patterned with orange and glowing white stripes, much like Thomas’s were, and his fingers webbed in the same manner as well.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, his mind not quite recognizing the hand as his.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas murmured. “It was the only way. There’s no cure for my venom… but you’re immune to it if you’re like me.”

Edward shook his head, finally completing the motion to cup Thomas’s cheek. “You have nothing to be sorry for. If anyone should be apologizing here it’s me. I put you in danger. I was careless and I hurt you with my carelessness.”

“You did,” Thomas said. He leaned into Edward’s touch, resting his own hand gently over Edward’s. “But I forgive you.”

Edward felt the hot press of tears behind his eyes. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” Thomas murmured. He pressed a kiss to Edward’s palm before pulling his hand away; he didn’t let go of it, however.

“You have only ever been genuine and honest with me,” he continued. “I know what it is like to be treated as only a scientific curiosity, and you have long since grown out of seeing me that way.”

“I’m sorry,” Edward said, mostly reflexively, but Thomas shook his head.

“I always found your curiosity more endearing than unsettling. That’s why I liked you. You didn’t care about how my insides worked, you just wanted to know what I liked to eat and what sort of human things I knew about and what I might like to see.”

Edward smiled. “I didn’t know what to make of you for the longest time. I kept worrying about saying or doing the wrong thing and upsetting you, because I only knew what was right for humans.”

“Well, I suppose now you get to find out what’s right for merfolk,” Thomas said, tugging Edward forward a bit.

Edward tried to follow after Thomas, but his mind was still trying to move legs and all he succeeded in doing was knocking one of the glass jars of plankton into the wall of the cave, causing it to shatter and the plankton to dissipate out into the ocean.

Thomas laughed—though he smothered it quickly behind a hand.

“Sorry,” Edward mumbled.

“No, no, don’t be,” Thomas said, smiling. “We’ll just make swimming your first lesson.

Several months later:

“Before we begin taking questions concerning the discovery of _Myrena rossii_ , I would like to thank the members of the Royal Society for allowing me to present alongside my colleague Sir James Clark Ross, particularly in light of my past blunders.”

There was a titter of nervous laughter from the audience.

“No, no, laugh,” Francis said. “I encourage you. I will readily admit to being a fool and was easily led to false conclusions about what in all likelihood was simply a shark. Getting a second chance like this is more than I could have hoped for.”

Francis could feel James watching him curiously as he made his concluding remarks, and he knew that James was going to ask him about it the moment they were backstage.

“I never thought I’d see you _denounce_ your own work like that,” James said, not as soon as they were backstage, but rather once they were tucked into a cab and on their way to their lodgings. “Especially since it’s… well,” here he lowered his voice, “true.”

Francis shook his head. “It’s safer this way.” He sighed. “After what happened to Edward I… I would never forgive myself if I let something like that happen again. I can barely forgive myself as it is.”

James lay a hand on Francis’s knee. “I doubt he’d blame you.”

“I know, but that’s hardly the point,” Francis said. “My stubbornness and pride about research I’ve known for years was unsuitable for the public eye led to the deaths of three men.” One of whom he’d grown to care for quite a bit.

James nodded sadly. “Have you heard anything from Thomas?”

“Not since his last letter,” Francis said.

Thomas had left once again to travel and look for his siblings, but had also taken scrounging up paper to write letters that he’d stick in bottles and send around to Francis, through friends of his that traveled through the area.

“But I did write him back the last time, perhaps there will be a letter waiting for me when I return.”

George Hodgson was perched on a crate, holding court over a group of midshipmen who were listening raptly as he told them about a “recent encounter with a mermaid.”

“It’s true, I swear it! She was anything but human looking. Much more a monster than any sea creature I’ve ever seen, but still stunning in her own right. Alas, I was not graced with her kiss.”

“How is that a bad thing?” one of the mids asked. “If she’d kissed you she’d’ve drowned you!”

“Ah, but the kiss of a mermaid is a magical thing.” George leaned in and waved for the boys to lean in close as well. The drama was always increased if you pretended something was an urgent secret. “It is said that if a mermaid loves you enough, she can give her magic to you and you can join her in her kingdom beneath the sea. A sailor lost to a mermaid is not always a sailor drowned.”

They were interrupted by the ringing on the forenoon bell and the mids scattered to their various duties. George got to his feet, stretching his back and wincing when it popped in a particularly unpleasant way.

“You ought not fill those boys’ heads with such nonsense,” a young lieutenant said, stepping into the gunroom. “God does not grant us creatures such as mermaids.”

George laughed. “Good morning to you too, Lt. Irving.”

Irving dropped heavily into a chair at the small table. “Is it?”

“It’s decent enough,” George said, watching Irving drop his face into his hands. “Well, at least for those of us not coming off morning watch. Did you not sleep last night?”

“Not well,” Irving muttered. “Kept having these queer dreams.”

“About mermaids?” George teased, and Irving raised his head to glare at him.

“No, not about mermaids, which aren’t real.”

George shrugged. “You believe what you see I suppose. What I saw certainly seemed like a mermaid, but if God doesn’t grant us mermaids, then who am I to say what it was I really saw.”

Thomas lay curled in a bed of seaweed, in a roomy underwater cave off the coast of Spain. He could hear Jane and Emma bickering about something from the next room over, their voices filtering in through the beaded curtain on the entryway of the cave.

The lead he’d been given those months ago when out with Captain Crozier had finally, with a bit more digging, paid off, and he’d been reunited with two of his four sisters. The other two and his brother visited every so often, but he hadn’t seen them yet and it was hard not to be impatient.

The beaded curtain rustled and Thomas looked up. He grinned broadly at the sight of Edward sliding into the room, still holding himself a little awkwardly, though his swimming was much improved of late. Thomas thought Edward looked quite exceptional like this, with his coloring a good deal darker than Thomas’s was: mostly red with very little orange at all. He’d thought Edward handsome before, of course, but now he was truly something else.

“Jane pressed breakfast on me,” Edward said, holding up a woven seaweed bag full of mussels. “Can we go above to eat?”

Thomas floated up from his bed, propelling himself forward to kiss Edward on the cheek. “Of course darling.”

There were some things that Edward had taken to quickly and easily—speaking underwater, swimming, learning to navigate and orient himself without seeing the sky—but there were also an equal number of things he struggled with, and eating underwater was one of those things.

Thomas brought them to a sheltered lagoon that he’d found about a week ago while exploring. He hauled himself up on the beach and waited for Edward to follow after.

Edward pulled himself up onto the dry sand above, and stretched out as he dumped the bag of mussels out. For his part, Thomas preferred to keep to the wet sand—he didn’t dry out as fast on wet sand—and while he worried for Edward and how he was adapting, he wasn’t about to poke at habits that he could reasonably guess were born of looking for comfort of things familiar to life on land.

Edward seemed to notice how intently Thomas was watching him and he ducked his head. “I know I should try to get used to eating underwater, it’s just…”

“Strange?” Thomas suggested.

“Yes, strange.” He looked immensely relieved, which Thomas was going to count as a win. “I also keep choking on water,” he added.

“It will come with time,” Thomas said. “You’ve done so well, adjusting in a very short amount of time. I’m proud of you, Ned.”

Edward flushed. “I still feel like I’m being horribly ungrateful… you saved my life.”

“It’s not being ungrateful to struggle having your entire life upended,” Thomas said, shaking his head. “Would you have judged me, if I had become human and struggled while getting used to life on land?”

“Of course not! Thomas—”

Thomas held up a hand to cut Edward off. “If you would not have judged me, then don’t judge yourself.”

Edward’s lip wobbled and Thomas finally relented and dragged himself further up the beach and drew Edward into a proper embrace. It was something they’d never really been able to do when Edward had been human, for fear of hurting him. But Thomas had wound up hurting Edward anyway, had _killed_ Edward, even though he’d been able to save him in the end.

“I still feel so guilty for what happened,” Thomas muttered into Edward’s neck, and Edward let out a long suffering sigh.

“I think we could run each other in circles trying to accept all the blame for what happened,” Edward said, laughing lightly. “Maybe we should blame Hickey and be done with it.” He grew quiet. “You never did tell me what you did with him.”

“I tore him limb from limb, but let’s not talk about him, please.”

Thomas sighed happily as Edward trailed his fingers along the base of his dorsal spines.

“As you wish,” Edward murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Thomas’s head. “I love you, Thomas.”

Thomas smiled, “I love you too, Ned. I always will.”

**Author's Note:**

> General Notes:  
> 1\. This whole au is set vaguely post 1863, as the Exeter School of Science was founded in 1863, but the features that I incorporated from The Resurrectionist range between 1870-1908, making the timeline essentially scrambled eggs and accurate to neither canon. 
> 
> 2\. Clearfin lionfish were discovered in 1829, and [they look](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/c1/Clearfin_lionfish_%28Pterois_radiata%29.JPG) really [fucking cool.](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/71/Clearfin_Lionfish.jpg)
> 
> 3\. [This is how you open an oyster.](https://youtu.be/hJTy_8Dtbsc?t=1090)
> 
> 4\. Swallowing while swimming down into deep water to relieve ear pressure is a real thing and I was taught to do it when I worked as a lifeguard and had to swim to the bottom of an 18 foot pool.
> 
> 5\. The saltwater clam (Myrina rossii) I have Crozier and Ross discovering is supposed to be [Idas simpsoni](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Idas_simpsoni) (previously Adipicola simpsoni and originally Myrina simpsoni), which was first discovered in 1900. I’m imagining they found it sooner cause they had Thomas trawling the ocean floor for them, and ofc I had to name it for Ross cause like… boy had a lot of shit named for him irl, and he should in an AU too.
> 
> 6\. [ “Hans Andersen’s Fairy Tales: A New Translation by Mrs. Paull,”](https://books.google.com/books/about/Hans_Andersen_s_fairy_tales_a_new_tr_by.html?id=LNcBAAAAQAAJ) published in 1867 by H.P. Paull, is the earliest collection of Hans Christian Andersen’s stories in English I can find that I know for certain includes “The Little Mermaid.” There are earlier translated collections, and “The Little Mermaid” was supposedly first translated to English in 1845.
> 
> 7\. Want to know what it’s like to be stung by a lionfish? Coyote Peterson has you covered. This video was the reference I used for Edward’s reaction to Jopson’s venom. 
> 
> Research/Inspiration:
> 
> 1\. “The Resurrectionist” by E.B. Hudspeth \- late Victorian fantasy science, a short biography of surgeon Spencer Black, who thinks that all mythical creatures were once real and went extinct. Has absolutely stunning anatomical drawings of mermaids (and other creatures) that I referenced regularly when thinking about Jopson and [how he would look/move.](https://images.fineartamerica.com/images/artworkimages/mediumlarge/1/mermaid-print-11-12-eb-hudspeth.jpg) The “Codex of Extinct Animalia” that Crozier and Edward discuss early on is part of this book.
> 
> 2\. “Arthur Spiderwick’s Field Guide to the Fantastical World Around You” by Tony DiTerlizzi and Holly Black - The companion field guide to the Spiderwick Chronicle series. It has some really beautiful mermaid design, which was [another inspiration for Jopson’s appearance,](https://i.imgur.com/UiDKwbO.png) and the main reason he looks more monstrous and not just human upper body, fish lower body. 
> 
> 3\. “Spirits, Fairies, Gnomes, and Goblins: An Encyclopedia of the Little People” by Carol Rose - In particular, the entry for Mari Morgan, a type of mermaid found in the mythology of Brittony in France. Their touch is fatal, however the mythos also says that some humans do survive and live underwater with the mermaids. This was what prompted me to make Jopson venomous and responsible for Edward’s death and transformation at the end. 
> 
> 4\. [“Monster or Missing Link? The Mermaid and Victorian Imagination” by Beatrice Laurent](https://journals.openedition.org/cve/3188) and [“Siren canora: The Mermaid and the Mythical in Late Nineteenth-Century Science” by H. Brink-Roby](https://www.euppublishing.com/doi/abs/10.3366/E0260954108000041) \- These two articles detail several facets of the actual historical scientific discourse surrounding the mermaid as a potential part of the evolutionary chain, from the Feejee mermaid hoax to people claiming that Darwin’s theory of evolution supported the existence of mermaids. These articles are where I found the taxonomic name Siren canora, which was possibly coined by the humor magazine Punch. At the very least that’s the only place I could find reference of that name being used. They are also where I learned that in this scientific discourse mermaids were referred to as generic female, despite the acknowledged existence of mermen. This was the reason for my choice to have Crozier default to mermaid as a generic term, whereas Thomas uses merfolk.


End file.
